Fallen Man
by PirateBlacksmith
Summary: False accusations led Will Turner to lose everything he ever cared about and forced him towards a life of piracy. They only thing that kept him from losing it completely was the guidance of an old friend. Second part of Hangman's Alliance. Completed.
1. Accusations

"And so the child lived happily ever after in the land of dreams." Elizabeth finished reading softly and looked down at her daughter sleeping beside her. She quietly closed the book and set it down on the bed. Leaning over, she gave Emma a quick kiss on the cheek. "Sleep tight, little one." She whispered and slowly got off the bed, trying not to disturb Emma. Picking up the book, she set it on the pile of books in the chair and blew out the candle before leaving the room. She closed the door softly behind her and headed down the stairs.  
  
After eight years of pain and loss, Elizabeth felt as if her life were finally coming back to her. She had her beautiful little girl and she had her husband, Will Turner, back. The same husband who she had thought died over eight years ago by the hangman's noose. They lived in England now, although Will had protested it at first. Pirates and the crown did not get along well, but she had reminded him that he was no longer a pirate. Their house had been bought by what he had taken with him when he left the Black Pearl in Gibbs' hands to come with her and Emma. It was a beautiful house, not extravagant, but just enough for the three of them. They had been there for a little less than a month. She was still getting used to the colder climate again while Will was getting used to being a civilian again. He was even talking about purchasing a smithy to start up a business.  
  
Elizabeth pushed open the door into the kitchen, peeking in. Will was eating an apple, staring at the wall in thought. She slid through the door and closed it quietly behind her before walking over and lying against him. That broke him out of his thoughts and he looked down, smiling at her. "Did you finally get Emma to sleep?" He asked her. She nodded.  
  
"It took a little bit of work. She's still excited about you being home. Although I don't blame her, because I am too." She said. Grabbing the collar of his shirt, she pulled him down so that she could kiss him. Just one kiss from him could make her soar and she enjoyed the sweetness on his lips from when he had been eating the apple.  
  
"I missed you more than I could ever say." Will told her once they broke apart. He closed his eyes. "It took me a while to come back, but I'm glad that I did. I wouldn't have missed this for the world." He said. Elizabeth laid her head against his chest, finger running over the scar under his chin where the noose had dug into his skin. It sounded morbid, but she was glad that it had been one of those rare hangings where the prisoner's neck did not break, because then he had the chance to come back to her.  
  
She'd been building up the courage to ask him what had gone on those years that he had been gone. She wasn't sure if he'd answer. There was still so much she didn't know and he didn't seem to want to volunteer the information either. Her curiosity was getting the best of her. Steeling herself, she looked up at him, dropping her hand. "Will. I wanted to ask you about...about what happened while you were gone." She said quietly. She felt him stiffen slightly and she winced. He was silent for what seemed like forever.  
  
"It's a long story." He said finally. "I'm not sure you'd want to hear it..."  
  
"I do." She interrupted him. "I do want to hear it, Will. I want to know what happened to you." The look in her eyes begged him to tell her. He felt extremely reluctant about telling her. He'd done things that he was ashamed of and wouldn't have been done by him before he'd been hung. "If you tell me, I'll share my story as well, although it would be a bore to you."  
  
"I'll tell you then." He took her hand and led her to the sitting room. "But you have to know that I did things that I'm not proud of. I just don't want you to think badly of me."  
  
"Let me be the judge, Will. You tell the story." She said softly as she settled herself down in a chair near the fireplace; as if she were doing no more than settling down to read a book. Will sat in the armchair facing the one she was in. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.  
  
"I guess I should start the story off at a place we both know..."  
  
-------------------  
  
**_8 Years Earlier_**  
  
"There's no need to cry, little one." Will said softly as he carefully picked the infant up out of the cradle. The baby continued to cry as he held her in his arms, the loud wails filling the room. Will sat down, carefully rocking her in his arms. "It's ok. I'm here now." Slowly the cries began to lessen until they were little sobbing hiccups. He smiled down at Emma, one finger trapped in her tiny fist. "Maybe a song would help?" He wracked his brain for a song before settling upon one that he remembered from his childhood in England, an old church hymn. Quietly he began to sing to her. After a few moments, her eyelids drooped heavily and she sighed and curled up tighter to him, feeling safe in his arms.  
  
There was a creak from the doorway and Will looked up to see Elizabeth standing there. He wasn't aware that she had been there. "I got her to sleep." He said with a smile as she came over and took the baby from his arms.  
  
"She's daddies little girl." Elizabeth responded as she laid the little girl in the cradle. He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist as she looked down at their child. She twisted around in his grasp so that she could face him.  
  
"I love you, Elizabeth Turner." He told her and he meant every word of it. He couldn't have found a better life. A job he did well, a wife he loved and cherished, and a beautiful baby daughter. She smiled back at him in a way that made his heart skip a beat.  
  
"And I love you, William Tu..." The crash in the kitchen put an end to the moment. Will quickly let go of her and rushed towards the doorway as Emma started to cry.  
  
"Stay with her!" He demanded before running out to the kitchen. To his surprise, he turned the corner to find five guards standing there. They all trained their guns on him, and he reacted by holding his hands up to show he was hiding nothing. "What is the meaning of th...?" His arms were wrenched behind his back as one of the guards put his gun on the table and pulled out a set of manacles. He was confused as to why they were arresting him. He'd done nothing wrong. "I demand to know..." He trailed off as Gillette entered the house, gazing down at him as if he were some bug that needed to be squashed under foot.  
  
"William Turner, you have been charged with piracy. You'll be taken to..." He started to say, but Will cut him off angrily.

"You can't do this! I was granted clemency!" He shouted, wondering how they could accuse him of a crime like this. He'd done no such thing.

"Which you paid no regard to!" Gillette shot back at him, saying it slowly as if Will were a slow child.

"I want to speak with Norrington! Where is he?" Will demanded. James and he had struck up an odd friendship, considering that the commodore had been in love with Elizabeth, but had willingly let her choose Will over him. He preferred to hear the allegations against him from a friend rather than a man he barely knew.

"The Commodore is away at sea, but he will return in the early morning. As his lieutenant, I'm acting in his stead. Now, as I was saying before, you will spend the night in the jail, and your trial will take place in the afternoon." His attention was caught when Elizabeth came marching into the room, Emma wailing in her arms. He didn't want her to see him like this. As he opened his mouth to tell her to go back to the room, Elizabeth spoke up.

"I demand to know what this is!" She shouted, as she surveyed the scene. "Where are you taking my husband?"

"Your husband has been charged with piracy, Mrs. Turner." Gillette responded calmly to her and her mouth dropped open in shock. It took her a few moments to respond.

"Piracy? Surely you must be joking. Who told you this?"

Gillette shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I must protect the witness." The guard behind Will grabbed one of his arms and dragged him towards the door of the house. He turned to call her name, but another guard grabbed his arm and forced him along. He felt numb as he stumbled along, being dragged towards the jail house to await his trail. Surely they would find him innocent because the witness was wrong. He was not a pirate.  
  
He would never be a pirate.

-------------

"To the best damn crew in the Caribbean." Jack Sparrow shouted from his place atop a tavern table, a cocky smirk on his face as he held up the mug. The last of his toast was drowned out as his crew started cheering, lifting their mugs in the air as well and then taking deep drinks. Everyone was happy and full of good cheer to spare, and why wouldn't they be? They were rich off the swag they'd stolen from three merchant ships out by Nassau Port and hadn't been caught. All in all, a good day.

Jack hopped off the table after he had taken a drink, the coin bag tucked in his belt jingling merrily. The perfect end to the night would be to find himself a lively wench and bed her. It'd been a while since they'd been on land and Anamaria had been the only woman on board. He may have been the captain, but he was intelligent enough to know not to mess with her.

"What the hell are you all still doing here? Go out and enjoy!" He shouted. "We're taking some time off and setting sail in two days!" There was more excited cheering from the crew as some of them got up and headed for the door, intent on living it up in the pirate haven of Tortuga. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack spotted Ana dragging a man about her age out the door, a coy smile on her face. He glanced around, finally settling on a woman near the bar who glanced away quickly as he noticed her. He grinned, flashing gold and silver and headed off in her direction.

--------------

Will found himself shoved roughly into a cell. The door was locked and the two guards that had escorted him headed back up the stairs, talking quietly between them. He knew that by morning, it would be all over the town what had happened. Going over to the corner, he slid down the wall into a sitting position, curling his arms around his legs and resting his chin on his knees. The moon shown through the bars, illuminating the dog sitting by the stairs, keys clamped tightly in its mouth.

"Don't suppose you'd want to give me those?" Will said with a little bit of humor in his voice. The dog continued to stare at him, unmoving. "Guess not." He sighed and laid his head back against the wall. "This can't be happening..." He whispered, trying to think of one person who would try to say he was a pirate. He didn't have any enemies and was on good standing with most of the townspeople. Hopefully James would arrive soon and would tell him that it was a big mistake and he could go home.

_Home_. He was worried about Elizabeth and Emma. What if he was found guilty and sentenced to death? Who would take care of them? He ran his hands over his face. He was not guilty and he could prove it. He would get out of this and go back to his family. It was just a bump in the road he had to get past.

In the early morning, Will finally fell asleep, unable to keep his eyes open any longer.

-----------------

Jack extricated himself from the tangle of limbs on the bed. The wench moaned quietly, sounding pleased. He waited until she had rolled over and clutched the pillow before sneaking around the room, collecting his clothes and pulling them back on, trying not to wake her. Once he was dressed he left her wage on the table beside the bed and left the room, heading down into the tavern. There were a few already there, eating what passed for food from the kitchen. Jack slid onto one of the bar seats, happily remembering the fact that he didn't have to be anywhere just yet. Not that he was tired of the open seas. It just felt nice to not have to order other people around. It was just him.

"...heard it from Mulligan. Said they were fixing to arrest the blacksmith there, Bootstrap's kid." The conversation caught Jack's attention and he whirled around, dropping the mug of ale on the bar top. He bolted across the room and grabbed the front of the speaker's shirt, hauling him out of his seat.

"What did you say?" He growled. Usually he allowed someone to deny they knew anything before he resulted to intimidation, but if he had heard right, time was short.

"In Port Royal. They're going to arrest Bootstrap's kid." The man stuttered. "Don't hurt me! Please! I heard it from a friend who was just there dropping off cargo." He protested, holding up his hands. Jack pushed him back down into the seat and turned, sprinting from the tavern. He could hear the bar maiden calling after him, saying he hadn't paid for his drinks, but he could care less.

-------------------

Ana turned over happily in bed, feeling the arms of Jeremy wrapped tightly around her waist. She didn't have to be anywhere or do anything. It was perfect. Behind her, Jeremy snuggled up to her, laying his chin on her shoulder. "Good morning, beautiful." He told her with a grin. She raised an eyebrow.

"Do you usually say good morning to yourself?" She asked. He was known for being somewhat conceited about his looks and skills. If she decided to keep him in her life, that would have to change.

"You know what I mean." He told her as she rolled onto her back, looking up at him with a sly smile.

"Of course I do..." She stopped suddenly as a commotion started outside. "What is that?" She got up, wrapping the sheet around herself and heading over to the window, looking down.

A few men she recognized from Jack's crew were running through the streets, some only half dressed, as if they were being chased by the devil himself. Or, as she soon saw, Jack Sparrow.

"Something's wrong." She turned towards Jeremy. "I have to go." He frowned.  
  
"You just got here." He said, as if it made a difference. Her first responsibility was to her captain and the Pearl. "I have to go." She said again, quickly getting dressed.

"Maybe next time I'm in port." He threw up his hands in frustration, but she was already out the door and heading down the stairs to the street. A few people were looking out of doorways to see what was going on as Jack rounded up more and more of his crew.

"Get back to the Pearl! Now!" He shouted. "We have to leave." As Gibbs appeared in the doorway of a nearby tavern, Jack grabbed his arm. Ana hurried to catch up with him.

"Jack, have you lost your mind?" She demanded. The pirate looked between his two friends, before uttering the words that quickly convinced them that they needed to hurry.

"Will is in trouble."


	2. The Trial of William Turner

The night gave way to a red morning, the rays of sun coming in through the barred windows above Will's head. Outside he could hear people going about their normal routines. Men calling orders down at the docks as cargo was loaded and unloaded, the sounds of hooves down below as carriages went back and forth. Everyone's life was going onwards when his was stuck at a standstill. He had barely slept at all and felt worse than before because of it. Nightmares had plagued the uneasy sleep, images of pirates beckoning him and calling him one of their own. He shut his eyes tightly, resting his forehead against his knees hugged to his chest.  
  
_This must be some mistake, a mix up perhaps. I may be the son of a pirate, but I am not one myself._ Despite the oncoming trial later in the day, his thoughts were on Elizabeth and Emma. He remembered how beautiful Elizabeth looked on the day they were married and at that point thought life wouldn't be able to be better than it was for him. When Elizabeth had announced to him that she was pregnant, he hadn't been able to stop smiling for days it seemed. When she was born, he had sat for hours just looking at the newborn, a sense of pride swelling in his heart. He had become a father and in that moment, he promised her that he would always be there for her and he would protect her.  
  
The sound of footsteps on the stone stairs broke his pattern of thoughts. He got quickly to his feet and moved towards the bars to see who it was. It was James Norrington. The man looked exhausted, his clothes uncharacteristically rumpled and a worried expression on his face. Will guessed that he had just gotten into port and had heard the news.  
  
"Is it true? Have you been accused of piracy?" James asked, almost demandingly, as he crossed the room to stand in front of the bars. Will nodded, leaning against the bars.  
  
"Yes." He said softly. "And they say they have a witness too." That had to prove that it was a mistake. If he hadn't done anything remotely pirate like, how could there be a witness to it?  
  
"A witness?" James asked. His expression became a perplexed one. After a few moments of silence between them, he spoke up. "Did you engage in piracy?" He asked the question carefully, not wanting to make it seem like he was accusing Will.  
  
"Of course not!" Will snapped back. "I've committed no crime here, James." He gripped the bars of the cell almost as if they would draw the anger and the fear from him.  
  
"I wasn't implying that you had, Will. I was merely asking. If this is all the proof that they have, you will most likely be found innocent." Something was not settling right with James about the accusation. There seemed to be something more to it. He glanced up at Will. "I will do everything within my power to see that you are found innocent." He said, turning and heading to the stairs.  
  
"James." Norrington turned to regard Will before he climbed the steps. "If I am found guilty, take care of Elizabeth and Emma for me. They'll need someone to watch over them." It broke his heart to say those words, but they needed to be said. James gave him a stern look.  
  
"There will be no need for that." He said firmly, almost as if scolding Will for thinking that way. "Because they will have you to take care of them." With that said he gave Will a reassuring smile and headed up the steps again. Will sat down on the ground again, getting lost in his own turbulent thoughts again.  
  
--------------------  
  
"Captain, she's sailin' with a bone in her teeth!" Gibbs shouted to Jack. The Black Pearl was moving through the water fast enough to raise a foamy white wake around the bow. Water splashed up on deck as the Pearl plowed forward and a few of the less experienced crewmembers slipped as they ran back and forth.  
  
Jack gripped tightly to the wheel, glancing down at the compass in his hand. No one had questioned or complained that their time off had been taken away once he'd started shouting orders, foregoing the bosun. Time was of the essence and he didn't have the time to explain nor did he need to. They were his crew and they would follow his orders without question.  
  
He didn't owe Will anything and most of the time that meant he could just forget the person. It was the fact that Will was the son of a trusted friend and had managed to leave his own mark in Jack's life that made him act how he was. Jack Sparrow was a pirate, but for a pirate he was an honorable man. William had cursed Barbossa's crew after the mutiny for what they'd done to Jack and he'd been sunk to the bottom of the sea with a cannon tied to his bootstraps because of what he had done. There were also the many times that Jack had gotten him out of trouble, or William had done the same for Jack. In short, the boy was almost family to him.  
  
"He thinks he can get to Port Royal in less than two days." Anamaria told Gibbs as she appeared behind him to tighten one of the lines. She unwound it from around the belaying pin and Gibbs helped her pull it tighter and wind it back around the pin.  
  
"Even if we do, what then? Can't just go barging in there and tell them to unhand the lad." Gibbs hissed back at her.  
  
"He says there's a smuggler's cove outside of town that is rarely used anymore. The ship will drop anchor there and then..." She shook her head. "I trust in Jack. He knows what he's doing."  
  
-------------  
  
"Elizabeth, maybe you shouldn't go in there." Governor Weatherby Swann looked at his daughter as the carriage drove towards the church, where most of the meetings in town took place. He could see the turmoil on his daughter's face and was worried that this would only make it worse. Emma was fast asleep in her arms, making little sucking noises with her thumb in her mouth. Elizabeth looked down at her, brushing the corner of the blanket away from her face.  
  
"Why not?" Elizabeth looked up to meet his gaze defiantly. "Will is my husband and I have every reason to believe he has been falsely accused. That's all I have to say." She looked back down at Emma. It was taking everything in her power not to dissolve into tears.  
  
The carriage came to a stop, signaling that they had arrived at the church. Governor Swann climbed out as the footman opened the door and held his arm out to Elizabeth. Elizabeth got out by herself, holding the baby close to her and headed for the doors. He felt hurt by her brushing him off but he followed behind her anyway. She was his daughter and he would support her in any way that he could.  
  
At the door, Will's best friend Michael Harden met Elizabeth. He took her into his arms, careful of the baby. She went willingly, knowing that Michael believed that Will was innocent as well. After a few moments they broke apart and she looked up, giving him a small smile. He gave her a sad smile in return. "They'll find him innocent." He told her quietly. "There is nothing to point blame at him for." Michael glanced up as Governor Swann approached and nodded his head. "Good afternoon Governor." He said formally. Governor Swann nodded in return. Turning around, Michael opened the doors for them.  
  
The courthouse was nearly full, conversation buzzing throughout the crowd. As the three entered, heads turned towards them and quickly away, not wanting to be caught staring. Elizabeth ignored them, walking up the aisle with Emma safely in her arms and her father and Michael beside her. She slipped into the front row and moved over so her father could sit next to her. Up front, Commodore Norrington nodded to her in greeting. She gave him a slight nod back.  
  
The doors burst open again, and two soldiers marched in, dragging Will with them. He came along willingly, knowing that fighting them would be more reason for them to think he was guilty. The whispers grew even more heated as he approached the judge. Even Judge Matheson was looking at him as if he were some kind of criminal. Elizabeth began to wonder if one simple rumor could turn a town against a man that easily or if there was something more that she was missing.  
  
"Quiet!" Judge Matheson boomed over the crowd. He was a fairly large and intimidating man, and it served to make the room quiet very fast. "Now on to the trial of William Turner, accused of piracy."  
  
-----------------  
  
The tears came, and there was nothing Elizabeth could do to stop them. The room was again filled with conversation the voices shocked, smug, or pitying. Governor Swann held his daughter tightly in his embrace as she sobbed. Michael sat beside her, holding Emma as the little girl wailed, staring straight ahead with a look of extreme surprise on his face. Norrington was angry, arguing with Judge Matheson over the ruling.  
  
"Commodore, you argue on that man's behalf because of your friendship with him and his wife." Matheson rebuked him. "Which is why I had an officer of yours write to your commanding officer and tell him of the nature of the trial. You have no say in this case, sir." He got up from his seat. "Except to give the command for him to hang." Norrington's mouth dropped open in shock.  
  
"This is entirely..." Matheson shoved the paper into his hands and Norrington stared down at it. The document in his hands seemed real enough. The paper was of the same kind his superior would use and the seal was there as well. He remained incredulous though. How could one of his lower ranking officers get a letter of this kind from a rear admiral? It wasn't possible, was it? He thought hard, trying to remember if it was possible in the chain of command and nothing came to him. But here the letter was saying that he was not to be involved in the trial. More than ever something seemed suspicious, but he had nothing to prove it.  
  
Two soldiers grabbed Will by the arms, pulling him from the courthouse. He snapped from his thoughts and this time fought against them. _I am not guilty! There's been a mistake!_ He wanted to cry out, but his voice seemed to have escaped him. Elizabeth broke free of her father, rushing towards him, calling his name. He fought against the guards, reaching for her.  
  
"Will, don't leave me!" Elizabeth cried as she ran for him, pushing past people. He reached for her and their hands met briefly before he was pulled out the door.  
  
"Elizabeth!" He shouted her name but he couldn't see her anymore. He begged with the men dragging him along but they gave no acknowledgement that they even heard him. He couldn't escape their grasps. The blacksmith quit struggling.  
  
Elizabeth was left standing in the middle of the aisle, her hand still out as if reaching for him. Slowly she pulled it back and turned her hand over, opening it. She fell to her knees, sobbing openly, her husband's wedding ring lying on her open palm.  
  
-----------  
  
The courtyard of the fort was full of people the next morning. Elizabeth watched over all of them from where she stood in between her father and Michael. Emma had been left with Estrella back at the carriage. She wanted to hate all the people who had come to see Will hang, but couldn't find it within herself to do so. There were some in the crowd that sympathized with her and pitied her, but there were also the others who didn't know him and thought that maybe he did truly deserve what he was getting. She felt Michael slip his hand into hers and squeeze tightly. She didn't squeeze back as Will was brought out of the jail and up the steps. The noose was fitted around his neck and the executioner stepped back.  
  
Will looked around the crowd at all the faces, trying to be strong and keep his head up, but inside he was already dying at the thought of leaving Elizabeth and Emma alone. He didn't want to die, not with everything that was in his life. His eyes caught hers and held them, full of love for her and the guilt that soon she would be left alone with their child. "Elizabeth..." He said her name so softly that it could not be heard over the man beside him listing the crimes that he had supposedly committed. All of a sudden he wanted to scream that he was guilty of nothing except wanting to be a loving husband and father, but the decision had been made and not even James had the power to overturn it.  
  
James wouldn't look up at him. Instead he stared at the ground, guilt on his face. This shouldn't be happening but it seemed as if very few people knew that. Governor Swann was urging him to give the signal, to end Will's suffering, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not with an innocent man in the noose. A few moments later, he nodded to the executioner.  
  
Elizabeth's sobs became louder and Governor Swann grasped his shoulder, saying that Will's neck hadn't broken. So not only was the boy robbed of his life, he was robbed of a quick death as well.  
  
Will struggled as the noose tightened around his neck, digging into and ripping the skin on one side of his neck. He tried in vain to draw breath into his lungs and soon felt the burning sensation, as his lungs demanded the air that they couldn't have. Black spots danced in front of his eyes as he began to lose consciousness. His last thought was of Elizabeth before everything faded to black and his struggles ceased.  
  
Norrington refused to look, not even when he heard the footsteps of the doctor on the stairs. There was silence and then the announcement that Will was dead. Tears came to his eyes and he finally looked up to the horrific sight. Down below, the crowd went silent and started to leave the courtyard. No one cheered that he was dead or make a comment about one less pirate in the world. It was all too close to home for them.  
  
Governor Swann laid a hand on Elizabeth's shoulder as she sobbed into Michael's chest. Tears rolled freely down his face as he looked up to Governor Swann. Between the two of them, they got Elizabeth to her feet and started walking her towards the carriage. Norrington looked away and followed after them.  
  
From the shadows of the courtyard, Jack Sparrow could only stare in horror. 


	3. Second Shot at Life

_Present_  
  
For a while, barely a sound could be heard within the sitting room. Finally Elizabeth gently put a hand under Will's chin and lifted his head so she could look into his eyes. She could see the pain and anger there from the memories of what had taken place and knowing that he'd been wrong about trusting his best friend. Her first instinct was to tell him to stop, that if he didn't want to remember, then she wouldn't need to hear it. But the other part of her needed to know what had happened to him in the time they'd been apart, what he had gone through, seen, heard, and done.  
  
"Will." Instead, she decided to let him make up his own mind if he wanted to continue. He was the storyteller and those were his memories and emotions. At the sound of his name, his eyes went up to meet hers. Then anger dissolved into determination, but the pain remained. It would for many years, as time was not so kind to forget all things. He reached up and slipped his hand into hers, squeezing it.  
  
"I'm fine." He told her. "I can continue." Without quite realizing it, his hand went up to his neck, tracing the scar just under the right side of his chin, where the rope had dug in as he had strangled to death in the noose. When he started to speak again, his voice was thick as if there was something in his throat. "I don't remember anything until..."  
  
---------  
  
8 Years Earlier  
  
_Her smile was radiant as she leaned down over him. Will lay in the soft grass, his arms resting under his head as he looked up at the clear blue sky and the woman he loved. Elizabeth straddled his waist and leaned down, her soft lips hovering teasingly over his and golden hair tickling his face. He leaned forward to kiss her and she put a finger on his lips.  
  
"You're not going to sleep on me yet, are you?" She asked him softly, leaning so that her mouth was near his ear. He could smell her, sweet like a freshly bloomed flower in the spring.  
  
"Of course not." He lay back in the grass, gazing up at her. Elizabeth put a hand to his cheek, her smile disappearing.  
  
"If you go to sleep, I'll never see you again." She told him, stroking his cheek. He gave her a strange look, wondering why she was saying this. Of course she would see him again, why would she say such a thing as he wouldn't? He gently grasped the hand stroking his face, soft against his rough hands, and pulled it forward so he could kiss it.  
  
Will's eyes widened in horror as he saw the blood staining her hand. She gazed sadly at him and finally looked away. "I told you." She said, tears coming to her eyes. Everything around him grew darker as the sun was blocked out in the sky. The tears fell freely down her cheeks now and she still wouldn't look at him. "Please don't leave us." She sobbed. He shook his head, raising his free hand up to his neck. He felt the warm stickiness of the blood there and began to panic.  
  
"I won't, Elizabeth! I promise! I'll never leave you!" Even as he said it, the world around him faded into darkness and he clung desperately to her hand and she to his even as she faded from his sight, leaving him grasping at darkness.  
_  
"Elizabeth!"  
  
The harsh coughing startled the three pirates as Will suddenly came to life. Anamaria was so startled she let go of Will's arms and he hit the ground with a painful thud. He felt completely disoriented, still in the darkness and teetering on the brink of unconsciousness again. "Elizabeth..." His voice was so hoarse that the word came out in a nearly inaudible whisper. Shapes slowly began to form around him and one of the indistinct shapes moved towards him and he felt pressure on his shoulder. Coming more into focus, he realized it was a person, and not just anyone.  
  
"William." Jack knelt down next to the boy, laying a hand on his shoulder gently. A strange mix of emotions ran through him as soon as he realized Will was still alive. Shock that he had been hung and was still alive, joy that he was still alive, pity for what he had gone through, and then the thought that bothered him. He was better off dead. For the moment, Jack shoved it to the back of his mind and tried to calm the younger man down.  
  
"Jack?" The pirate had to lean down just to hear him speak. He felt relieved that Will knew whom he was talking to.  
  
"Aye." He responded quietly.  
  
"Jack, my throat hurts." His coughing hurt him more the raw feeling in his throat grew worse. His body felt very weak and he could barely move on his own. He didn't want to move or speak, just wanted to lie there until the pain passed. But that was not to be as Jack got to his feet, nodding to Gibbs.  
  
"Get him up. We have to get out of here." Jack said quickly, bending and slipping one of Will's arms across his shoulder. Gibbs did the same and between the two of them, they got Will to his feet. Immediately the blacksmith fell forward and almost took Jack and Gibbs to the ground with him. Jack planted a foot and stopped him, pulling him back to a standing position. "Come on William. Stay with us." He told him as he and Gibbs started walking. Will was deadweight on their shoulders, barely able to walk himself. His knees kept buckling and he would slide towards the ground. The two pirates would have to stop and reposition him again before continuing.  
  
The return trip to the smuggling bay that was port to the Pearl was a tense one. The three pirates had been able to move easily and quickly through the back alleys into the bad part of town, but with an injured person, it slowed them down and increased the chances of getting caught. Every sound made now became that much louder and increased their chances of attracting attention and getting caught. Jack urged them on, pulling Will with him as much as he could. Will slipped in and out of consciousness, muttering from time to time. Jack heard him call out for his wife and daughter and had a sinking feeling. Eventually one of them would have to explain the situation to him and it would crush William. Jack would be the one to do it, of course. His crew were good men and hard workers; he didn't trust a damn one of those pirates either.  
  
"Jack...I need to go back..." Will said, opening his eyes to look up at Jack. Jack avoided his gaze, staring straight ahead with a deadpan expression on his face.  
  
"We need to keep moving." He responded shortly. Gibbs said nothing, continuing on as Anamaria guarded them from the back. Will's head dropped forward again as he battled to remain conscious. Jack shifted his grasp on Will's arm. "Don't stop. Not till we're on the Pearl." His eyes were hard as he glanced over at Gibbs. Inside he mourned seeing innocence lost, but he had to keep it together on the outside. There were times when emotions could not be afforded, and this was it.  
  
--------------  
  
"Can you do anything?" Jack asked, standing at the end of the cot with his arms crossed and the deadpan look still on his face. Cotton tilted Will's head to the side to see the bloody mess underneath the young man's chin. After a quick inspection, he looked up at Jack and nodded. In the few months since he'd come on board, it had been discovered that Cotton had once been a surgeon until an accident and the death of a patient had sent him packing to the sea. The old man snapped his fingers and motioned for something to write with. "Marty!" Jack bellowed.  
  
A few moments later, the smallest member of the crew burst into the cabin. "Aye sir?" He asked.  
  
"Cotton needs something to write with and on." Jack said. "Get it and hurry back." The midget hurried off again. Cotton turned Will's head to the other side and gazed at the rapidly forming bruises. None of them must have been anything serious as he dismissed them immediately. Jack rubbed his own neck, remembering the day he himself had almost hung to death as the battle between blacksmith and executioner raged just inches from his head. He remembered desperation to get away and alarm that the only thing keeping him from strangling himself to death was the sword stuck in the trap door.  
  
Marty clambered back in and handed Cotton the paper. The old man scribbled a few things down and shoved it into Marty's hands again. Marty looked to Jack, as did Cotton. Jack craned his neck around, looking down at the paper to realize it was a list. "Go get what he needs." He commanded.  
  
A few minutes later, Cotton had his makeshift medical supplies. A bottle of rum for anesthetic purposes, clean strips of cloth ripped from one of the tablecloths that had been among the cargo that Jack's crew had taken in from the last merchant ship that they had attacked, some thread, and a needle. The old pirate got up from the edge of the bed and pointed towards the door, making a motion as to shoo them out.  
  
With one last look at Will, Jack left, heading back out onto the decks, lost in his own thoughts.  
  
---------------  
  
By the time the Pearl was finally back at sea, night had fallen and the stars were out in full. The first night watch had already settled in. One man was up in the crow's nest, watching for the approach of ships or land. A few others prowled the decks below. The rest were in the forecastle, asleep or talking or for the lucky few who knew how, reading by candlelight.  
  
Gibbs appeared out of the companionway, cutting his way across the deck to the quarterdeck, where Jack stood, leaning against the wheel. Gibbs slowly climbed the stairs and walked over. "Captain."  
  
Jack glanced over at him, not saying a word. "Cotton's done with him. I just thought you should know." He said, stumbling over his words slightly. Jack looked back out to the sea.  
  
"He was better off dead." He said, finally voicing the thought that had plagued him most of the day and well into the night. He didn't see the look of shock on Gibbs' face but seemed to know he owed the man an explanation as to why he felt the way he did.  
  
"William Turner, or Bootstrap as you knew him, was a pirate. Will may have the blood of a pirate, but he's not one of us. He was born and raised a civilian and that's what he should've remained." He turned to face Gibbs again. "Now he can never go back to his wife and child because he's dead to them. She saw him die and even if he did go back, they'd hang him again." Jack's grip on the wheel tightened. "Caught between two worlds, one of which he no longer belongs to and the other which he should never belong to."  
  
Gibbs took what Jack was saying in, mulling it over with a thoughtful look on his face. "Then what are we going to do with him?" He asked finally, not being able to find the solution from what Jack had given him.  
  
"The only thing we can do." Jack said quietly. "Make a pirate out of him." 


	4. History Behind the Pirate

A few days had passed since the botched hanging in Port Royal. The Black Pearl was back in harbor at Tortuga and the crew given their leave. Jack, however, came back to the ship often to try and coax the blacksmith out of the cabin and at least get him moving again. A quick rap received no answer, so he pushed the door open. The cabin was completely empty, the bed still a mess and two meals completely untouched. Jack frowned slightly, wondering where the boy could've gotten to. He headed back up the companionway and out onto the deck, wandering around the ship.  
  
He finally found him sitting on the stairway up to the quarterdeck, staring over the rail out at the horizon. Jack approached him quietly, two rum bottles clutched in his hand. His intention was to loosen Will up, to finally coax him out of the morbid world he'd been living in as the first step of making him a pirate. The hard part would actually be getting him to drink it. "William." He said, pausing just a few feet from him.  
  
Will turned his head slightly, his neck horribly sore. He didn't say a word, simply looked to Jack and waited for him to speak again, which was just fine with the pirate. He'd never been one for being snapped at. "Brought some rum. Thought you could use a drink." His offer was met with more silence as Will looked back out at the horizon. So he went over and sat down on the steps just above Will, setting the first bottle close to him and opening the second. He tilted his head back, taking a drink of the sugary liquid and swallowing.  
  
"I want to go home." Jack perked up as he heard the soft voice and looked over to Will. He'd shifted so that he could see both Jack and horizon now. In the moonlight, the wound on his neck was red and angry. His normally tanned face had taken on paleness and there were dark circles under his eyes. He looked more like a victim of sickness rather than a man just hanged.  
  
"You can't go home." Jack said bluntly. He'd been expecting and dreading this conversation. He would have to explain to Will why he couldn't go home, and then he would have to explain him his options, none of which the young man would want. Not to mention he hated doing this. He was a pirate and businessman, not a shoulder to lean on. The only person he should've been concerned with was himself and his crew, yet this blacksmith from Port Royal, the son of his best friend, had changed that. He was even beginning to feel like a father when it came down to Will, which he really didn't appreciate either. "You are dead and even if you showed up in Port Royal, they'd hang you again to finish the job. Port Royal is no longer your safe haven, William."  
  
Will stared at him, fury in his dark eyes. "I have to go home, Jack. What about Elizabeth? And Emma? My place is with them, Jack. No where else."  
  
Jack grabbed his shirt collar, tugging him forward. Will winced as he was jerked forward, making him move his chin too quickly and pulling at the healing skin. "Listen to me. You are dead to your bonny lass, savvy? The only thing you can expect if you go back there is to be hung again. I know this will be hard for you to accept, but that life is over for you." He let go of Will's collar and leaned back against the stairs, taking another drink of rum.  
  
Will gently rubbed at his throat, his eyes shut. "Then what am I supposed to do?" He asked quietly. "How am I supposed to live?"  
  
"Become a pirate on my crew. Sign the articles and go on the account with the Pearl. You'll find I'm a fair capt..." He was cut off as Will stood up quickly. He had to clutch at the stairs to keep himself from falling over.  
  
"Never! I will never become a pirate." Will said bitterly.  
  
"Then you have another choice. Take a bit of coin and pay your way on a merchant ship docked here. Find yourself a town where you are unknown and settle down again. Mind you, you've lost your apprenticeship and most of your belongings." Jack said off handedly.  
  
"That's what I'll do." Will told him. "I am not a pirate. I never will be. I never wanted to be."  
  
Jack laughed suddenly, startling Will and making him take a step back. "You think we all set out to become bloody scallywags?" He said, smirking in dark amusement. "You have a lot to learn, lad."  
  
Will had been about to go back to his cabin and prepare to leave, but his strong sense of curiosity rooted him firmly in the spot. "What do you mean?" He asked and after a moment's hesitation, sat back down on the step.  
  
"No man ever sets out to become a pirate, William. Many don't have another choice. Some have a choice, but chose this life because they have hopes that things will get better someday. Being a pirate is not a glorified occupation, it's survival." He picked up the full bottle beside him and held it out towards Will. Will hesitantly took it, staring at it as if it would give him all the answers. Jack could see the mixed emotions in his eyes. The longing to go home, the anger at what had been done to him, the pain as he thought over his future, and a hint of curiosity.  
  
"Why did you?" Will asked quietly, not looking at Jack. The pirate had been expecting the question. He felt a bit hesitant about sharing the past that had remained a mystery to so many for so long. Jack glanced around the ship, looking to see if there were any others on the ship. But it was just he and William. The rest of the crew were spending their shares in the taverns and buying themselves wenches, trinkets, and rum. Which is what he wished he were doing at the moment.  
  
He settled himself into a comfortable position, rum bottle at hand. "Let me tell you a little story..."  
  
------------------  
  
"Not ever?" The young Irish man's eyes twinkled in amusement as he looked over to his dark haired best friend. "Surely you must be joking." He shifted his pack to settle more comfortably on his shoulder and brushed back an escaping strand of hair from the messy ponytail behind his ear. "You've never been on a ship William?"  
  
"I solemnly swear it Jacob. I've never been on a ship before. It's been nothing but odd jobs for me since my father died. My sister would've ended up working the corner had I not found work. I couldn't have that." William Turner said as the two men walked along the dock. A few of the ladies boarding the passenger ships turned to watch them as they walked by. They were both quite young, only nineteen, and quite handsome. Jacob Morgan was the taller of the two by only a bit, dark haired and his eyes always held a mischievous look. William Turner was the more reserved of the two. Both of them were from the lower class section of town and were used to the hard work and poverty that had surrounded them for so long. William had been teetering into disenchantment with life before Jacob had suggested they look for jobs on merchant vessels so that they could see the world.  
  
The ship that had taken them was a three masted vessel named the Siren's Song. Jacob and William had managed to snatch the last remaining places in the crew of ninety. The captain was a friendly man who was reputed to get along well with his crew and treated them as equals. It sounded like a ship that they could've worked on. Jacob caught sight of the rowboats being loaded with supplies and tugged on William's arm. "Come on. We'll catch a ride out to the ship with them." He said, heading towards the boat.  
  
A while later both men were on deck, listening as Captain Haversham went through his traditional welcoming speech and the rules. After that, they were ready to set sail. Jacob glanced over at William as the crew dispersed around the decks to make way. "Open sea, here we come."  
  
------------  
  
Jacob had never been so frightened in his life. The crew of the Siren's Song was down on their knees on the deck, arms tied behind their backs. No less than forty had died trying to defend the ship from the invasion of pirates, but they had failed to keep the ship from being taken. The remaining crew had given up their weapons; their arms were tied and they were made to kneel in a row, facing the other ship as the pirate captain boarded.  
  
He felt his breath catch in his chest, looking over at William. William was staring at the man, his chest heaving slightly as the fear overtook him. The pirate walked to the head of the line, the first man being Captain Haversham. They seemed to be discussing something, but the two were unable to hear so far down the line. Then there was a gunshot and Haversham crumpled to the deck, scarlet spilling out over the wood. Jacob squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the urge to scream in terror. "I don't want to die." He whispered and jumped as he heard another gunshot and a thud as the body hit the deck. Then there was cheering.  
  
Jacob opened his eyes and glanced down the row as he saw two pirates haul the quartermaster to his feet and escort him towards the ship. "What's going on?" William hissed at him. "Did he betray us?"  
  
Jacob shook his head. "No. The captain is asking us to go on account." He whispered back. "He's looking for more men for his crew." His heart thudded in his chest and his mouth had become dry. He did not want to become a pirate, yet he did not want to die. "I recognize who this is. Most pirates will drop off the men who did not go on the account near to a port, but there are a few who straight out murder them instead. That's Captain 'Red Eye' Forrestal." William dropped his head, chin resting against his chest in a look of defeat.  
  
Not too long after, the toe of Forrestal's boot lifted his chin so that the young man would face him. "What about you, boy? Will you go on account or would you prefer death?" There was a tense silence as Jacob waited to hear the answer, not even sure what his own decision would be.  
  
"I...I'll go on the account." William said finally, fighting tears. "I'll become a pirate." Jacob looked over at him in shock. "If I die, there will be no one to take care of my sister and mother." He said in a rush. "This way I can still send them the money."  
  
"But..." Forrestel stepping in front of him, an expectant look on his face, cut off whatever Jacob had been about to say. If it was possible, he thought his heart sped up even faster to the point where he felt light headed. "I..." He looked towards William, who was being dragged to Forrestal's galleon, a large ship with black sails. "I'll go on the account." He said finally, forcing the words out. Rough hands grabbed him from behind and hoisted him to his feet as Forrestal moved on to the next man in line.  
  
Jacob felt horrified at what he'd done, agreeing to become a scoundrel. But he had done it for survival, and he wouldn't be alone.  
  
------------  
  
"Jack the Bloody."  
  
"No."  
  
"Jack Raven?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Jack Sparrow?"  
  
"Why are you so obsessed with changing your last name?" William, now known as Bootstrap Bill Turner, muttered as he pulled his feet off the table and picked up his half empty mug.  
  
Jacob Morgan, known as Jack Morgan for the time being, gave him a dark look. "Because there is already a Captain Morgan on the seas. I want to have a name everyone will remember." Both young men had taken to the pirate lifestyle quicker than they had thought they would. Jacob had been given a name change when the veteran crew had kept forgetting his name and had taken to calling him Jack instead. All he needed now was to change his last name.  
  
"You're not even a captain. Why would you need to worry?" William said, eyeing his friend as he took a drink.  
  
"Because eventually we're going to get out from under the Devil's thumb and be free men." Jack whispered, leaning forward. Captain Forrestal was indeed the Devil to them. He was harsh with his crew and especially abusive towards the younger members. Both Jack and William had their fair shares of marks on their backs from the numerous punishments.  
  
"That would be a brilliant idea. But how would we ever get away from that man without being branded mutineers and have enough money to get our own ship? Or even steal one, for that matter. We are only but two men." William said, thinking out loud. "I'm with you all the way on this. It just needs planning."  
  
"Aye." Jack got up from his seat, throwing two shillings to the serving wench as he and William headed towards the door. "That's going to be the hard...part." His attention was drawn somewhere else as he heard a woman crying out in fear and protest. Before he could stop him, William had drawn his cutlass and rushed towards the small alleyway. Jack did the same and followed after him.  
  
The woman in question was backed into the corner, curling up into a small ball and crying softly, begging for her life. Her clothes were ripped and torn and her dirty face was streaked with tears. One arm was bleeding heavily, the other hand clapped over it but not doing enough to stop it.  
  
Captain Forrestal hovered over her, weaving slightly. It was easy to tell that he'd had a goodly amount to drink. Jack's temper began to rise. Some pirates found it fine to rape a woman, but he was one that found the act disgusting. He would take a willing wench into hid bed from time to time, but forcing himself upon another woman was something he would never think of.  
  
"Forrestal!" He bellowed. "Leave her alone." The drunken captain whirled around to face Jack, nearly falling into the wall. "What'd ye want, boy?" He snarled, staggering towards Jack. "Don't ye know yet not to speak out against the Captain, eh?" He swung his cutlass at the younger pirate, but the rum had slowed his reaction time and Jack was easily able to duck underneath the blow. Forrestal crashed into the wall and spun around.  
  
"Come here you...you...you bastard!" He slurred. Jack jumped back as the captain swung the sword again. Both him and William were good swordsmen, but the captain's swings were unpredictable and unwieldy. The best he could do was try and avoid the swings.  
  
The next swing hit Jack in the hand. He cried out in pain and stepped back as a line of blood raised on his skin. He'd been lucky that he hadn't lost it. William took his turn and found it as difficult as Jack. He was soon nursing a shallow cut across the chest. While the young pirate was looking at his bloodstained hand, Forrestal lunged for him. Jack lunged as well and they both hit the ground.  
  
Jack rose. Forrestal didn't, Jack's dagger embedded in his chest. Right through the heart. Jack stumbled into the wall, breathing hard. He'd killed men before, when taking a ship, but never the captain. William looked to him, eyes wide. Neither of them had any idea what to do.  
  
Behind them, the young woman's sobs had died down and she continued to lie against the wall, staring off into nowhere. William turned around, kneeling down in front of her. "Are you alri..." He was cut off as her hand whipped out and slapped him hard across the face.  
  
"Leave me be, dirty pirate." She hissed at him through clenched teeth. "Be gone!" Tears rose in her eyes again. "Be gone!" William got to his feet and backed up, looking down at her.  
  
"I can't just leave you here. You're hurt and surely another man will take advantage of you in this condition." He told her.  
  
"Just as you would, pirate?" She almost screamed the word at him.  
  
"We have names." Jack told her. "And not all pirates are like him." He nodded towards the dead body. "Let us get you to an Inn. That's all that we ask." She glanced between them, realizing that she was outnumbered and that they could've had their way with her, but didn't.  
  
"He's right. I'm William Turner. And this is Jack...Sparrow." He crouched down by her again.  
  
Her eyes took him in before looking him in the face again. "Anna Farris." She said quietly, hugging herself.  
  
As William helped her to her feet, Jack knelt down and pulled the ring off of Forrestal's finger. He slid it in his pocket and started from the alley, ignoring William's questioning glance.  
  
-----------  
  
The crew had responded immediately to the Bosun's call. Under the tyranny of Captain Forrestal, they had learned that a slow response meant harsh punishment. Most were shocked to see Jack Morgan standing in the captain's usual place, rolling something between his hands. As soon as they had all gathered, Jack began to speak.  
  
"Forrestal is dead." He said bluntly, and the whisperers started. "He attacked me and I was forced to kill him." Jack held up the ring, the moonlight glinting off the rather large stone in the middle. "According to his articles, any man who challenges the captain and wins shall have his ship and crew." He smirked, glancing over at William. A smirk appeared on his friend's face as well. "From now on, you'll address me as Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?" There was some murmuring and a few scattered 'ayes.' "What was that?" He shouted.  
  
"Aye!" The crew shouted in unison.  
  
"Good. Get some sleep. Tomorrow we're out on the sea again." The men turned to head to the forecastle, still whispering among themselves. Jack turned to William, awaiting his response.  
  
"You wily bastard." William said with a laugh as Jack walked up the steps to the quarterdeck. He dragged his hand over the wood of the wheel before leaning on it.  
  
"I told you." He said. "Now I have a ship and a crew." He ran his hand over one of the spires on the wheel.  
  
"Under my guidance, the Black Pearl and her crew will become the most feared in the Caribbean."  
  
--------------  
  
Will had not said a word the entire time that Jack had been telling his story, but Jack knew he had been hanging on every word. He studied him carefully, but found that he couldn't read the boy's emotions quite right at the moment. Finally Will stood up, wrapping his arms tightly around himself, almost as if to ward off the cold. He didn't say a word as he headed back to the forecastle to curl up on his small bed in the crew's quarters, his mind spinning with what he'd just heard.  
  
Jack watched him disappear before turning to look out at the horizon himself. Bringing up old memories made him realize how long he had been at this. _Forty-three bloody years I've been alive, and over half of them a pirate._ It was who he was now, a man of fortune and a bloody scallywag. A part of him was proud that he'd made a reputation for himself, but the other was disappointed. Being a pirate had brought him much more pain than anyone had ever realized.  
  
He swiped his rum bottle off the step and took a deep drink, trying to send the memories to the back of his mind again. Will would have to make his own decision. Jack was done pleading his case. 


	5. A Pirate Born

_This would be about the time that Emma would be put to bed._ The sun had turned a fiery red as it lowered itself behind the horizon. He remembered a time when he loved looking at sunsets, sitting with Elizabeth on the beach in silence. She would lie in his arms and he would hold her, and neither one would say a word until the sun had been hidden completely and the darkness had come over the beach. Reaching up, he gently touched the healing wound on his neck and closed his eyes, fighting the tears. He already missed his wife and daughter so badly he could barely help it, and the talk with Jack hadn't helped matters.  
  
_I can't go home to them. I can't see my daughter grow up and I can't grow old with Elizabeth. I have nothing left of my life. I took it for granted and now I miss it so much._ He pulled his coat tighter around him to ward off the chilly wind coming in off the sea. He'd come down to the beach to make a decision, but so far all he had done was put it off, thinking in favor of a life long past. He felt so confused, angry and grieving at the same time. Could he take Jack up on his offer? That had never been his life before. It didn't matter if Jack and his father had taken to the lifestyle so quickly. It wasn't his.  
  
He lowered his chin to his chest, feeling the newly healed skin stretch. What he truly wanted was to wake up and realize this was all a horrible dream. He would wake up in a few hours and be back in bed with Elizabeth, awoken by the crow of the rooster. Elizabeth would get Emma up and make breakfast before he went for a hard days' work at the shop.  
  
What he wanted so badly would never come. This wasn't a nightmare or some distorted daydream. It was real life. He had been hung and had somehow managed to come back from teetering on the gaping abyss of death. The scene he had imagined back in Port Royal would never be anything but a distant memory again. He couldn't have what he wanted most because it was taken away from him. His entire life was forfeit because of a crime he never committed. Anger welled up in him. He got to his feet, still staring out at the horizon. He was made a fugitive for someone's mistake, a witness that had never shown, and a trial that was a sham. He felt like he'd lost touch with reality suddenly and everything became cold. There was no love, no wistfulness of days past, or mourning. Just want, anger, hatred. He hated the entire world for what it had done, what it had no reason to do.  
  
With one last look out at the horizon, Will turned around and headed back up the beach, a man with a mission.  
  
--------------  
  
"Elizabeth?"  
  
Governor Swann's gentle voice called to her from the hallway as he rapped lightly on the door. Elizabeth ignored him at first, looking out at the red sun sinking slowly behind the horizon. She didn't want to talk to anyone anymore, hearing their excuses and their regrets. Emma slept quietly in her arms, but she couldn't remain motionless. It was almost as if she could feel the tension and the grief within Elizabeth and it wouldn't let her rest.  
  
Elizabeth tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked down at her daughter. How long had it been since she had slept a decent night's sleep? Long enough. She was so weary yet could she could not sleep. The memories came in her sleep and turned dreams to blood nightmares and forcing her to watch the most horrible moment of her life repeatedly. She was so numb now, unable to feel the simplest emotion. Not anger or grief or love. There was another gentle knock at the door of the nursery, but the voice that came next was a different one.  
  
"Elizabeth?" This time Elizabeth looked towards the door, hearing the voice of James Norrington. She got up slowly, laying Emma in the bassinette that Estrella had brought up for her. Her father had refused to let her return to the small house that Will had worked so hard to give her as a wedding present. She had returned to her old room at the mansion and a makeshift nursery had been set up.  
  
For a moment, she did feel emotion. Anger at her father. Never once had he approved of his daughter's marriage to the blacksmith of Port Royal and had tried to convince her not to go through with it more than once. James had stepped in a few times on Elizabeth's side and arguing on their behalf. But the anger soon faded as she found she couldn't be angry with her father. What had happened had not been his fault.  
  
There was another rap on the door before she reached it and opened it. Governor Swann and James looked at her as the door opened and she stood in the doorway, not speaking. Slowly Swann moved forward and took his daughter into his arms, holding her. She rested her head on his shoulder as she had done when she was a little girl and closed her eyes. They hurt horribly from the days of crying, but she couldn't bring herself to cry anymore. James turned his back to them and walked a few paces down the hallway, letting them have a moment together.  
  
Governor Swann looked down at his daughter, pushing a strand of golden hair behind her ear. She looked up at him, wondering why he had come to the nursery knocking. "How are you?" She stared back at him for a moment, tired of hearing that question repeatedly.  
  
_How do you think I am? I've lost the man I love with all my heart and there's nothing you could do or did do that will bring him back to me._ She wanted to say the thought out loud and see what expression would be on his face. Instead she held her tongue, giving him a smile that faltered. "As well as to be expected." Her voice felt a little hoarse, not having talked with anyone the past few days. She had been merely a shell, going where people escorted her to, doing what they had asked. The perfect, obedient, well bred daughter her father had always wanted.  
  
He nodded slightly, rubbing her shoulder. "You will come to me, should there be anything you need?" He asked her. She doubted that what she needed he could provide.  
  
"Of course." She told him. "I must go back to the baby now." She turned away from him and headed back into the nursery. To her surprise, it was not her father that followed, but James.  
  
He hated seeing her like this. She was taking it so well, yet he didn't know what went on below the surface. Now he came bearing bad news for her as well. He still loved Elizabeth and always would. Someday he would find himself a wife that he loved dearly, but she would always hold a part of him. He had never felt any resent when she had chosen Will over him. She was following her heart to happiness, and he couldn't have expected anymore than that. Now he wished that she could've stayed happy.  
  
Elizabeth caught the look on his face as she headed back towards the chair she had been sitting in. "Commodore?" She asked, turning to take a few steps back towards him. "Is something wrong?"  
  
He looked down at the floor for a moment, wondering how best to break the news to her. He finally decided to tell her straight out. "William's body disappeared." James looked up to Elizabeth, watching her reaction. Her mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. Her face paled and she reached out for something to support herself with. James immediately came forward, taking hold of her arm. She rested against him, shock overtaking her.  
  
Suddenly she pushed him away. He was caught off guard, stumbling a few paces back. "How could you let him be taken?" Elizabeth clenched her fists in anger, staring at him. Tears came to her eyes. "Why?" Her voice was no more than a shaky whisper as she said the last word.  
  
"I'm sorry." The words felt thick in James' mouth. Wasn't that what everyone said when they made a mistake, whether they cared or not? It seemed so impersonal to him. "It was only a few moments after everyone had left the fort and there was no one around." He didn't know what else he could tell her.  
  
"He was my husband and you let them take him away from me!" She shouted and sunk to the floor, dissolving into tears. He realized that she wasn't talking about the aftermath of the hanging, but the events leading up to. Breaking the image of a commodore and taking on the role of the best friend, he knelt beside her. She leaned forward onto him, sobbing into the fabric of his coat.  
  
"I couldn't stop them." He told her quietly. "One of my men wrote a letter to those that are my superior and received an order to overrule my judgment in this case." James held her as she sobbed. He couldn't comprehend what she was feeling at the moment. All he could do was be there for her.  
  
"Who?" Elizabeth looked up at him, tears streaked down her face. "Who did it?" He looked into her eyes and saw the pain there, knowing that the identity of the person in this case would let her direct her anger to someone who truly deserved it. Unfortunately, he couldn't give it to her.  
  
"I don't know. I have yet to find out myself." He told her gently. Elizabeth closed her eyes and laid her head back down against his chest. The tears started to flow again, but this time they were silent.  
  
He would be her support.  
  
-----------  
  
Jack glanced from the compass sitting idly on the corner of the table to the map spread out on the table in front of him. Picking up the crumpled paper beside him, he checked the directions he had been giving before going back to the map. One finger tapped a small patch of blue on it and he made a small mark with a piece of charcoal. "There she be." He said with a small smile.  
  
A few minutes after Will had disappeared on him the night before, Jack had joined Gibbs and Anamaria at the Sunken Galleon Tavern for a few drinks. The bar brawl that had ensued from two men fighting over a wench had even reached their little table in the corner. Getting in a few hits of his own, Jack had managed to steal the slip of paper with the merchant ships information on it. With a quick glance, he noticed that the cargo on the ship would be worth a small fortune.  
  
Hearing wood creak, he glanced up, expecting Gibbs asking him if he'd figured out the ships destination yet. Instead, he found himself looking at Will. A very different William Turner than the one that had left this ship. His eyes had taken on a cold look and it was a slight bit off putting.  
  
"What?" Jack asked him before looking back down at the map to figure out the path the ship would take to reach its destination.  
  
"I'll sign articles. I want to go on the account." Jack paused, never lifting his gaze from the map. He had expected much more of a fight than this from Will, not him coming to the cabin only a day after Jack had made the offer and asking to become part of the crew.  
  
"Are you sure?" Jack rose to his full height, meeting Will's gaze. "You seemed pretty adamant last night that this was the last thing you wanted to do."  
  
"What other choice do I have?" Will responded calmly. "I'm asking to join your crew, Jack. There's nothing left for me anywhere else." Pirate and blacksmith held gazes for a moment later, trying to read figure out what the other was thinking. Then Jack broke it, turning to the sideboard that held most of the maps and other important documents and pulled out a sheet of paper. He set it in front of Will.  
  
"Read this. If you still find yourself wanting to sign, we'll go from there." He said. Will picked up the paper and read quietly as Jack went back to figuring out the shipping lane.  
  
Will committed what he read to memory. No gambling, no fighting on the ship, no sneaking women aboard, no man was allowed to force himself upon an unwilling woman. Any disagreement to be solved with pistol and sword and those who committed mutiny in time of engagement would face death. He set the document back down on the table. "I'll sign." He said. Jack pulled a small dagger from out underneath the table and pricked his finger.  
  
"Sign below the last name in blood." Will took the offered pen and dabbed the blood on the paper. Using the nib of the pen to trail through the blood, he scrawled his name. Jack took the paper and set it back in the sideboard before turning back to Will, his expression still eerily deadpan.  
  
"Welcome to the crew of the Black Pearl, Mr. Turner." 


	6. The First Time

Jack raised the spyglass, peering through it. A smirk appeared on his lips as he sighted the merchant ship not too far away from them now. The easily quicker Pearl would have no problem catching up to it. He glanced over at Gibbs as he lowered the spyglass. "We've got her now." He said with a laugh. "Prepare the men. I want sharp shooters in the rigging, a few manning the guns, and the rest ready to board." Gibbs nodded, turning to shout the orders. The deck was alive with activity, pirates rushing to man their positions. "We're going to come up on the port quarter." Jack said. "They won't stand a chance."  
  
"Aye." Gibbs intoned, sharing in Jack's enthusiasm. "Should we be raising our colors now, Captain?" Jack nodded. After another shouted order, the Jolly Roger was raised up the mast, waving proudly as the Pearl chased down it's intended victim.  
  
Only one person didn't seem to know their place on deck. Jack hopped lithely down the stairs and grabbed up an abandoned flintlock musket into Will's hands. "Know how to use that?" He asked. Will stared at the gun in his hand before looking up to Jack, his expression giving away nothing.  
  
"Yes." He said quietly.  
  
"Good. Get up in the rigging with the other four. Pick off officers first if they try anything. They won't be organized without them." He said firmly. "But not unless they try something. I don't want the dead on my hands if I can help it." With that he went back to the quarterdeck, picking up the spyglass to check on progress. Will looked down at the gun in his hand again, swallowing. He had no idea what to do, even after Jack had explained it to him.  
  
"You. Boy." He glanced up as another man approached him. "You're up in the riggin's with us." He said, pushing him towards the ropes that hung down onto the deck. "So let's get moving." Will did as he was told, climbing up and finding a position where he could balance well and aim. His hands were slick with sweat and his breathing was shallow. He didn't remember being this nervous, even when the cursed pirates were using the Pearl to chase down the Interceptor.  
  
The Pearl was coming up beside the ship. Across the way he could see men scrambling to try to make the ship faster so they could pull away, but it was useless. The pirates had them. A cannon ball hit the water just ahead of the merchant ship, sending the men into more of a frenzy. Just as Jack thought they would, they assumed that if they kept going, the next ball would go right through the bow. So they made to change directions, which slowed them down enough for the Pearl to come upon her and capture her. Boarding grapples were thrown across from the pirate ship, finding anything they could to grab onto. Jack's crew swung and climbed across, the air filled with the cries of men thirsty for riches and blood.  
  
Jack had never been one to sit out of the action and joined his crew in the fight on the decks of the merchant ship. The sailors refused to let what they were transporting go without a fight and things got deadly quickly. Pirates and sailors clashed on the deck, the rays of the setting sun bouncing off upraised cutlasses and the decks slowly turning red.  
  
The man just above Will fired off a shot, dropping a man who had been about to kill one of the pirates. Will watched, feeling almost sick, as the man crumpled to the deck. For a moment, it seemed like everything went silent and all he heard was the rushing in his ears. He could still see men falling under blade and pistol, but he couldn't hear anything. The bile rose in his throat and he grabbed onto a nearby line to steady himself. He felt cold and clammy and his head spun. Everything was happening to fast, he wasn't ready for this, not yet...  
  
Then everything stopped and focused on one man. Jack was fighting with a man he could only assume to be the captain, who seemed to have as much skill with the blade as Jack. Jack was holding his own well, but it was the man taking aim at the pirate captain's back with a pistol that he feared. Will brought the musket up, taking aim at the sailor. His finger rested on the trigger and seemed to freeze there. Everything was still so quiet except for the rushing, which grew louder. The sailor began to pull back the trigger of the pistol, just as Will pulled on the trigger of the musket.  
  
The sounds around him came rushing back, blades clanging, men shouting and screaming. The sailor slid bonelessly to the deck, just as Jack gained the upper hand on the captain and forced him back, slamming the hilt of his cutlass into the man's temple. The pirate turned to see the body lying on the deck just behind him and looked up, finding his newest crew member still hadn't lowered the musket and shaking.  
  
"This ship is ours!" He shouted, raising his cutlass in the air. Around him men started cheering, the remaining sailors realizing they were outnumbered and dropping their weapons on the deck, raising their hands in the air. "Tie them up, but if I see any man mistreating a prisoner, he'll be kissing the wooden lady!" Not really favoring the prospect of being tied to the mast and flogged, the men handled the surrendering sailors with care as they tied them up kept them out of the way for the others who went down to the hold to retrieve the spoils.  
  
Will climbed down off the riggings and dropped the gun on the ground. A moment later he was hanging over the side of the ship, giving back to the sea what had been served for dinner the night before. It was the first time in his life he had really killed someone. The cursed crew of Barbossa couldn't die, so they hadn't counted. And even if they hadn't been cursed, there would've been no loss there. But this was a man who was simply defending his ship and captain and he'd killed him.  
  
Jack followed his crew down to the hold to see just what precious valuables the ship had been carrying. Opened boxes revealed jewelry; pearls, ivory, and precious gemstones. Jack picked up a handful and slowly poured it back into the crate, listening to the sound and smiling. "Put the top back on and take these to the Pearl." He commanded, turning and heading back towards the stairs.  
  
The younger pirate had found his way over to the deck of the other ship, looking around at the damage that had been done. A few of the imprisoned sailors glanced up as they heard him approach and then quickly looked away, as if making eye contact with him would be their deaths. But he didn't notice them as his gaze landed on a boy among them, no more than eleven or twelve by the looks of it. The same age he had been when he'd signed onto the _India_ to come to the Caribbean looking for his father.  
  
_He heard the report of the cannon again and saw the spray of water as the ball hit near the stern of the merchant ship. Men were running back and forth, adjusting the sheets so that the sails caught more of the wind and hopefully would help them outrun the pirate ship at their heels. But all was in vain as the ship closed in, dark sails billowing in the wind and enshrouded in a strange fog.  
  
Suddenly they all stopped and looked towards the ship, fear taking them over. The Jolly Roger had been replaced with a red flag. No Quarter Given. Will could feel his breath catch in his throat, terrified. He didn't want to die like this. The captain was shouting more orders, screaming for them to try everything that they could to get away. But it was useless. There was another report from a cannon just fired and the ship shuddered, slowly beginning to lean to the side. They'd been hit. He could hear the rejoicing cries from the pirate ship and knew that he would die on this ship. That he would never find his father.  
  
Another cannon ball hit the ship and there was an explosion somewhere. The gunpowder stored in the hold had ignited. Will ran to the rail, thinking that he could jump over the side and find something to cling to, maybe he could live.  
  
On the Pearl, Bootstrap Bill Turner watched in horror as the dark haired boy ran to the railing. He easily knew who the child was. It was his own son. Not only did he fear for the boy's life, but of Barbossa finding out and realizing that the medallion and the end to the curse was within his grasp. Bill was already sentenced to die, but coming up on the merchant ship had only prolonged his life for a few simple moments. He tugged at the ropes tied tightly around his wrists, wanting to get free and rescue the boy. But his hope faded as an explosion ripped through the merchant ship, eliciting howls of pleasure from the men around him.  
  
"Will..." Bill hung his head, cursing the man who had betrayed his best friend, encouraging mutiny against him and leaving him on a god forsaken island to die, and now ended the life of his young son. It wasn't long before the toe of the boot of that very same man lifted his chin to look up.  
  
"Now, where were we?" Barbossa asked with a smirk, motioning for Bill to be hauled to his feet and dragged over to the cannon. "That's right, I remember now. Sending ye to Davy Jones' locker."  
  
As Bill was sent to his death on the Pearl, the small board floating on top of the water went unnoticed. Will lay unmoving, his face pale in the early morning fog, unaware that just a few feet away from him, his father had unwittingly given up his life so that Will would live.  
_  
The boy's frightened gaze bored into Will, making the feelings of guilt worse than before. He couldn't pull his gaze away from the child though. He knew too much of what the child felt. He opened his mouth to say something and nothing would come at first. Then he slowly regained the ability to talk.  
  
"You're going to be alright." He told the boy. "As long as you stay quiet and still, they won't hurt you." The boy's eyes widened as he realized the pirate was talking to him. There was still fright in his eyes, but it had lessened some. Will turned away from him to see Jack walking towards him.  
  
"Nice shot." The pirate commented dryly, but said nothing more as Will paled again. Jack scrutinized Will for a moment before speaking again. "This is the life you've signed onto, Will. This was your choice, so you better get used to it. There's no going back now."  
  
Will didn't respond, just looking down at the deck instead, trying not to see the body laying a few feet from where they were standing. Jack, however, did notice and spun him in the direction of the ship.  
  
"Come on. Let's go back."  
  
------------  
  
"Elizabeth, are you sure about this?" James asked as the young woman stepped down from the carriage. She turned and held her arms out for her daughter. James carefully handed the baby to her and then got down from the carriage himself.  
  
"I'm sure." Elizabeth said quietly, giving him a sad smile. "I can't stay there under my father's watchful eye anymore and I can't..." Her voice caught in her throat and she wasn't able to finish her sentence, but he knew what she meant. The house where she had lived with Will, where a once happy family had lived, only to be destroyed by false accusations.  
  
"If this is what you want." He responded as the door to the tavern opened and Michael came out to greet Elizabeth. She hugged him carefully, mindful of Emma in her arms.  
  
"Thank you." She told Michael softly. He had offered her a room to stay in his inn after he had heard her talking to Norrington about the need to escape the mansion but having no where to go. The tavern keeper nodded respectfully to James as he pulled back from the hug.  
  
"Commodore." He said. James returned the sentiment.  
  
"Michael." Elizabeth gently handed the baby to Michael.  
  
"I'll be right in." She told him and turned back to James. Michael took Emma back inside, leaving the two alone. Elizabeth bit her lip for a moment before throwing her arms around his neck. "Thank you." She said quietly. "For being there for me when I needed someone to talk to." James hugged her back, not giving a damn if it was proper or not. Sometimes rules and etiquette needed to be broken to comfort another human soul.  
  
After a moment, he pulled back from her. "Take care of yourself." He told her. She nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes.  
  
He waited until she had gotten into the tavern before climbing back into the carriage and pulling the door shut. The carriage moved forward with a sudden jerk and he laid back against the seat, closing his eyes and willing the miserable past few weeks to leave. 


	7. Hurting Inside

Elizabeth blew out a breath in frustration and leaned forward, latching one slender hand around Emma's ankle and gently pulling her back. Emma let out an amused coo as Elizabeth flipped her onto her back and settled the cloth diaper underneath her again. The baby giggled and kicked out her legs and then was quickly distracted by her surroundings. Elizabeth took advantage of the situation to pin the diaper on and pick her up again. Feeling herself lifted in the air, away from the ground she had been exploring moments before, tears welled up in her eyes and a moment later erupted into a full blown wail. Elizabeth paused, closing her eyes and wearily tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. After a moment she sat down with the crying infant in her arms and slowly began to rock. The wails did not abate, however, and she searched her mind for something else to calm the child down. She had been fed and burped, her diaper had been changed, and she hadn't been wanting for attention at all. Something else was bothering her and Elizabeth had a fair idea of what it could be.  
  
Today it had been one year since she had watched her husband die for a crime that he didn't commit. She had watched him hang like an animal and hadn't been able to do anything about it. One hand raised to her neck and gently pulled on the chain around her neck. It came undone and she turned Emma around so that the child was sitting in her lap. She held the chain out in front of her and immediately the wails began to die. One small hand reached out to touch the golden ring dangling from the chain, reflecting in the candlelight. An amused sound escaped her as she grabbed hold of it and pulled it towards her to look. Elizabeth smiled and gently smoothed down her dark hair, watching her carefully as she stared at the ring. It was so big in her tiny palm.  
  
"This was your father's." Elizabeth said softly. She hadn't spoken for most of the day, hadn't felt like it. People who saw her offered their sympathies but she was tired of hearing them. Sympathies would not make her life any better. She had healed some, tried to go back to living a normal life. Her father's pleas to come back to the mansion were refused and she had begged Michael to let her take up a serving job in the tavern to earn her way. For the longest time he had refused, citing that it was the least he could do for her. Finally, under her constant begging, he gave in. Quite quickly she had found out that the job wasn't as easy as it looked. She had been used to being waited on back up at the mansion and then when she had married Will, cooking and cleaning for two and then eventually three. Never a full tavern. At night she would climb into bed weary after checking on Emma and close her eyes, falling into a deep sleep. Her dreams were filled with happy memories, mocking her. Moments she could never have again.  
  
James had started making regular visits to check up on her after he was done with his work. Elizabeth appreciated the visits. He would come to talk with her about the happenings in Port Royal and to play with Emma. When Elizabeth watched him, she thought about what a great father he would make someday. Gentle but firm, patient as well. Sometimes he would bring her a small present, like a toy. Elizabeth felt more comfortable around him and Michael than anyone else. They both felt real in their emotions and actions towards her. Other people would see her coming and smile in false cheer, asking how she was and what she had been doing. Politely listening with those patronizing smiles stuck on their faces and making her feel worse inside. She would respond nicely to them and smile, returning the inquiries and hoping deep inside that she could leave soon. Michael and James were different. Their questions were genuine, really wanting to hear her answers. Michael was always looking for some way to amuse Elizabeth unless he sensed that she needed to be alone. He helped take care of Emma when he had the time, becoming like an uncle to her. James was willing to listen to her talk and offer up any advice he had. When she felt the worse, she would talk to him, knowing that he truly was understanding. It had to be hard for him, listening to her talk about her dead husband and how much she had loved him, knowing that he loved her as well but she had not chosen him.  
  
Emma raised the gold ring to her mouth, about to chew on it when Elizabeth snapped out of her thoughts and gently pulled it out of her hand. She had kept the ring the way it was from the day she had taken it from his finger in her attempts to hold onto him as he was dragged from the town meeting house. He had always kept it with him, even at the smithy. Will would take off the ring and slip it on a chain around his neck to keep it away from the fire of the forge. Even around his neck it had picked up dirt and grime, tarnishing some of its glow. She hadn't cleaned the ring at all. The way it was reminded her of him.  
  
There was a gentle knock at the door, attracting Emma's attention. Elizabeth stood up and placed Emma on the floor before going over and pulling open the door slightly. A sad smile crossed her face as she saw James standing there, smiling back at her. She held up a finger for him to wait a moment for her and went over to Emma, picking her up and placing her back inside her bassinette. She placed a kiss on her daughter's forehead and left the room, closing the door behind her.  
  
"How are you today?" James finally inquired after they had found an empty table in the tavern. On one of the rare occasions that she had gone to see her father, he warned her that people had begun to talk about James visiting her so often. Angrily she had protested that he was a very good friend. She knew her father wouldn't have minded if the commodore had become anything more than that. He hadn't wanted her to marry a lowly blacksmith and in his own way had made getting married more difficult for the both of them. Weatherby Swann loved his daughter dearly and had done what he had thought was right. She didn't see it the same way.  
  
Marrying for status or money was never what she had in mind growing up in England. She had always pictured the day when she would marry the man that she loved with all her heart. He would be standing at the alter, watching her come down the aisle with love in his eyes. She would return that look of love, almost hurrying down the aisle to hold his hands and profess her love for him in front of all the witnesses. Hurry so that she would start a life of bliss with him. For a brief moment, she had been lucky enough to have her dream. She had married William Turner and become Mrs. Elizabeth Turner. She had a daughter that they both loved dearly. Then it had all fallen apart.  
  
"I'm fine." She answered quietly, clasping her hands on the table in front of her. "Today it was one year ago, but I don't feel like crying." She shook her head. "I've mourned so much for him, but it's not going to bring him back." For a moment she fell silent, biting her lip. James waited patiently for her to continue. "I'm strong enough to live on my own, to live without him. But it's not strength. It's that I don't want to live without him. I loved him so much and he loved me as well." James reached across the table and laid a hand on top of hers quietly. She looked up at him, tears in her eyes but not yet spilling onto her cheeks. "Why him? Why did what happened happen? Why are we alone?"  
  
"I don't know why what happened did or why it happened to the family that it did, but I do know that you are not alone, Elizabeth. Never are you alone." He was impressed with her strength. Despite the questions that nagged at her, she was trying to put her life back together and doing an admirable job of it. Taking on a job in the tavern after having been waited on all her life, trying to have her independence from her father, and taking care of a child on her own. She was dealing well with the situation or trying to at least, and he admired her for that.  
  
She squeezed his hand in return and then shook her head, trying to calm herself down. This wouldn't do. She didn't want to be the woman who lived in the past. William would always be in her heart and she would never love another like she had loved him, but she had to face the truth. He wasn't going to come back and she had to move on and hold tight to the memories.  
  
"So what is the news from the fort?" She asked, giving James a small smiled. "Anything interesting that would make good gossip around the tavern?" She felt a little better with him, making a joke to take her mind of the heavy importance of the day.  
  
He smiled in return and shook his head. "I'm afraid not. Another dull day of work to keep the Caribbean safe." He responded. "Eventually something interesting will happen and no one will be ready to respond to it because we've all grown used to our dull little town being so quiet. As much as I hate to say it, I'd almost wish that Sparrow would come back and stir up some commotion." He didn't really mean it, but it achieved the effect he was looking for. Elizabeth laughed, a little spark of amusement in her dark eyes.  
  
"You wish that Jack would come back to cause trouble? Commodore Norrington, I must say you have to be very bored then to wish for a pirate to stir up a commotion here in Port Royal." In all honesty, she wouldn't have minded seeing the pirate captain again. Despite her misgivings she had developed a bit of a liking for the roguish man. The thought of seeing Jack again brought her back to the day again and she wondered if he had ever heard the news of Will's death. Most likely not, being that Will was one, small, unimportant person in the town. She kept the smile on her face though, hiding her emotions and her inner thoughts. "Although I'm sure of all the pirates out there he would only cause mass mischief and not cause too much damage. I could be wrong."  
  
He smirked. "That's why I would prefer Sparrow. He seems less apt to destroy everything in sight." It wasn't as if he liked Jack. In fact, he still resented it that the pirate had gotten away from him. He had let him, true enough, but for months after they had tried to find him and ended up with their hands empty. Finally he had called off the search, letting Jack keep his reputation of the only man to ever have escaped the noose on Port Royal. In a way, he didn't mind it either. People needed stories to tell, new ones, and this one would give them something to talk about.  
  
"You might be underestimating him." Elizabeth said with a wry tone. "You never know what he could do." James nodded in agreement but found nothing else to say. For a few minutes they sat there, listening to the voices and the clinking of ale mugs. The conversations as people discussed their days, gossiped, or laughed at a joke someone had told. They drank, ate, and were merry.  
  
James finally stood up. "Well, I do believe I must be getting home. It is late." He told her, pulling his coat back on and buckling it up. Elizabeth got up from her seat as well, pulling the shawl tighter around her, as if she were cold in the warm tavern.  
  
"I'll see you out." She told him. He nodded and headed towards the door. A few men called out to him and he responded with a polite dip of his head and a smile, even calling back to a few. Elizabeth did the same, speaking to the men who regularly frequented the tavern and knew her quite well. Finally they made it to the quiet of the outside, where his carriage was waiting for him.  
  
The silence remained between them as he regarded her. She looked back at him, her expression unreadable. Then something happened. It happened too quickly for either to register if it had been them who had initiated the action, or why they did it. Later on Elizabeth would assume it was because she needed the comfort and in a way, she had loved James. Not as much as Will, but she had loved him. James would still not know what to think, but he wouldn't dwell on it.  
  
Her lips pressed against his, her arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer to her. For a moment he resisted before willingly kissing her back with a passion he had never known to be within him. It lasted for a brief moment before Elizabeth pulled back, a look of dismay on her face. She touched her lips shakily, a look of horror on her face at what she had done.  
  
"I'm so sorry. I never meant to..." James' words were lost as Elizabeth turned and fled into the tavern. He was left standing beside the carriage in shock. He'd never meant for that to happen, but somehow it had seemed all too right. But it had hurt her and he never wanted that. He thought about chasing her back inside but knew it would only make things worse. Today was not a good day for her and that had been the last thing she had needed. He slowly climbed back in the carriage and closed the door. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees and held his head in his hands, quiet.  
  
Elizabeth rushed back to her room and fell down onto the bed, tears that she had thought dried up pouring down her face. Just when she thought she was moving on with her life and putting the past behind her, it came back for her. She had wanted to kiss James. He had been there for her so much over the past year and that had endeared him to her. The kiss itself was wonderful, so full of passion and love. Then she pictured his face in her mind, heard his laugh and his soft voice, felt his rough hands. She had felt like she was betraying him and it hurt her deeply. Slowly the tears began to slow and she laid on the bed, clutching the sheets tightly in her left hand and staring at the wall, willing the feeling to go away. But it seemed to want to stay, to torture her.  
  
"I'm so sor..."  
  
--------------------  
  
"...ry, Jack, but it looks like yer goin' to be losin' this one." The squat pirate captain chuckled from where he was standing beside Jack. There was another crack as wood broke and Jack winced, shaking his head.  
  
The man standing beside him was Captain Bartholomew Anderson of the Whispering Wind. He was short, only coming up to Jack's shoulder and quite large around the middle. No one had ever seen him without a mug or pipe in his hand. He wasn't a very well known man, quite a bit of a coward in fact, but he always felt the need to beat people at their own games. His favorite man to challenge was Jack, the legend of the Caribbean. At first Jack had found it amusing to knock the pompous man down time after time, but after a while it became disconcerting and strange. The contests had started out with which captain could earn the most, plunder the most ships in a months time, or drink the most rum. Jack had easily swept all three and Anderson had almost lost his ship more than once. Then the contests became odder. Which man was the better singer and who was the funniest. Then there came this challenge.  
  
Anderson had recently taken a young man onto his crew with a knack for fighting. Tall and lithe, he had sandy hair and dark blue eyes. The first time Jack had met him, he'd been all too willing to wipe the arrogant smirk off his face. Will had just taken to ignoring the kid, who was about the same age as him, and focusing on the mug of rum in front of him. After looking Will over, Anderson had calmly told Jack that his new crew member could easily knock out Jack's. Jack had rolled his eyes and gone back to his rum. Anderson had tried a few more times to get him to accept the challenge, David standing behind him and looking on. Finally the boy had come forward, leaning on the table.  
  
"I don't think this one's got much fight in him. Probably headed off to sea after finding his wife in bed with another man." That did it. Will was out of his seat in a moment and slammed his fist into David's chin, knocking him into a table. David was back at it quickly, slamming into Will and sending him crashing into a wall. A full blown fight had erupted from there.  
  
Over the past year, Will's attitude and general disposition had gotten worse. He hated to be social and spent most of the time angry. Jack knew what was eating at him on the inside. His whole life, a life he had worked so hard for, had been ripped away and left him no other option except a life that he had never wanted. He had been betrayed by people who knew him, died briefly from the noose and come back only to find that he could never go back to his wife or child. What else was exactly left for him in this life except to commit to a life he never would have had if there had been a choice? He was growing deader inside and even Jack's best efforts couldn't save him. He could only keep him alive and hope that it got better.  
  
"Wi...Matthew!" Jack's voice caught as he almost uttered his real name. Gibbs had brought up a very good point to him earlier on. Elizabeth was a smart, intelligent, and very stubborn woman. If she ever caught word that there was a William Turner aboard the Black Pearl, she would come looking for him and that couldn't happen. The pirate ship was no place to raise a child and she would have to leave him because he could never go back to Port Royal. So Jack had christened him Matthew Stryder, a name thought up while he was good and drunk. "Why are you fighting like there's bloody rules?" He bellowed in frustration. "You're a pirate. Start fighting like one."  
  
David was straddling Will, hands wrapped tightly around his neck to cut his air off. Will was trying to pull his hands off, but had lost the advantage. His lungs were starting to burn and spots danced in his vision, but the anger from the stinging remark still coursed through him and he was far from giving in. Hearing Jack's call, he reached up and clawed at David's eye. David cursed and let go with one hand long enough for Will to smack the other away and push him off. Both men got to their feet, beaten and bloody. David was no longer wearing his cocky smirk. They both regarded each other, waiting for a move to be made.  
  
Wiping the blood away from his nose, David glared at Will. "Must have hit a mark there, eh? So did you catch your wife in bed with a real man? Must have been a nice change from a dandy like you." He chuckled. "I bet she's done..." He never got to finish his sentence as Will quickly slid a sword out of the belt of a nearby pirate and sent it flying in David's direction. The sword stuck in the wooden post just behind him, a thin red line appearing on the edge of David's ear. Against his better judgment, he looked towards the sword with wide eyes. Will took advantage of his shock, grabbing him by the hair and slamming his head into the post. David's eyes rolled up in his head and he slid to the floor unconscious.  
  
Jack turned to Anderson, a smirk appearing on his face. "Eventually you'll realize the folly in challenging me and go bother someone else." He said, emphasizing the last four words. "I win again." But Anderson didn't seem to hear him, having a conniption fit. He stomped his feet and cursed out the boy, telling him to get up and finish the fight, but David didn't hear him, out cold.  
  
As soon as the fight was over, Will had pushed his way out of the tavern and into the streets. He walked a good distance before entering into a rare, empty alley and sitting down on an old crate. His hands were shaking badly and he had to take a few breaths to calm himself down.  
  
He was terrified of the man he was becoming. Back there in the tavern when he had knocked David out, he'd had to restrain himself from taking it farther, from doing further damage. He had been cut deeply by the remarks that had been made. Elizabeth was on his mind most of the time and he still ached for her, longed to be in her embrace. He longed to be a blacksmith again, returning home from a long day at work to his beautiful wife and little girl. But that would never happen again and he needed to stop thinking that way. He began cutting off certain emotions, not wanting to feel the pain or the love anymore. Anger, frustration, and hate had all seemed to fill the void quite quickly. Those were the only emotions that he could count on. In a place like this or in a occupation like he had now, love and the pain of loss were easily taken advantage of. Men died because of them.  
  
To feel made him weak and if he was going to survive, he couldn't allow himself to feel. But that was only most of the time. At times like this, when he was alone, he allowed himself to feel the emotions he tried to hide for a brief time. Tears came to his eyes and he covered his face with his hands. Even these times were growing fewer. He was being hollowed out inside because of the past that he dwelled in and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He didn't want help from Jack or Anamaria or Gibbs or anyone else. He wanted to be left alone.  
  
For a few moments he let the tears flow before he calmed himself down, taking deep breaths. Once he had gotten a hold of himself, he stood up and left the alleyway. His expression was stoic once more, a mask over what he felt deep inside. 


	8. A Proposal Accepted

It had been raining for three days now. A bolt of lightning lit up the windowpane and made James turn his head slightly to look. Seeing that it was of no consequence to him, he turned to look back at the roaring fire, taking a sip from the glass of brandy in his hand. In his mind, he kept replaying the images of the kiss Elizabeth and he had shared. The look on her face as she turned and ran from him. He had never meant for it to happen and knew that she had never meant for it as well. Michael had informed him the next day that she hadn't come out of her room that day at all but to see James. It had been the one-year anniversary that day and she had wanted to see no one but him.

He took another drink, finishing up the glass and getting to his feet to get himself another one. The book lay forgotten on the arm of the chair. The only sounds were the father clock in the corner of the room and the popping and cracking of the wood in the fireplace as it burned. It was too quiet for him now. Even at the office there was a certain amount of background noise that made him feel calmer.

His hand was on the decanter when there came a knock at the door. He paused a moment, wondering who would be calling at such a late hour. The knocking persisted and he put the glass down, heading over to the door. Upon opening it, he found Elizabeth, soaking wet and standing on the front step of his home. Her hair was matted down around her face, clothes sticking to her body as she wrapped the coat tighter around her. But the rain on her face couldn't hide that she'd been crying. He felt the guilt rise up again, barely managing to get out the proper words to greet her.

"Elizabeth, what are you doing here?"

"May I come in?" The request was soft, almost inaudible. He nodded and quickly stepped aside, letting her come in. She stood in the foyer, turning around to face him. He could see that she needed to ask him a question from the expression on her face, but wondered what it could be. She seemed to be having a hard time saying exactly what she wanted to. Finally she looked down at her hands, opening and closing them to provide distraction.

"Did you mean it?" She whispered. "When you kissed me, did you mean it?" She looked up at him and he was surprised to find that there were no tears on her face. Her gaze rested on his and her chin lifted slightly, waiting for his answer, of which he didn't have just quite yet. Instead he waved a hand towards the sitting room and took her gently by the arm. Elizabeth went with him and sat down in one of the chairs, sitting down and leaning forward, elbows resting on her knees. "Please, James, answer me." She begged him.

"I did mean it." He answered finally, pouring more brandy into the glass and looking at the wall above Elizabeth's head. "But that doesn't make it right." He took a sip and returned back to his seat, setting the glass down on the small stand beside him. The movement knocked the book off the armrest and Elizabeth reached over to pick it up. She closed it, slowly and softly running her hand over the front, her gaze not meeting his.

"So did I." She said as she traced the words imprinted on the front of the book. "I meant it but at the same time, I felt so much guilt for what I was doing. I loved, and still do, Will with all my heart. No one will ever have my heart in the way he did." She set the book on the floor by his chair, missing the look on his face. James loved her, but that day on the cliff after Sparrow had escaped, he had seen that Elizabeth loved Will and there was no coming between that kind of love. Now here she was being brutally honest about it with him, but he sat quietly and listened. "But you're the only man who ever came close." This time her gaze did travel up to meet his. "I meant that kiss."

James stared at her in shock, wondering if he had just heard what he thought he had heard. Did she just admit that there was love in her heart for him? Even if she had, he wasn't quite sure what she was getting at still. He kept his silence, gazing back at her and waiting for her to speak again.

"I will never stop loving Will, James. He'll always have a part of me. But over this past year you've been there for me like no one else and I've seen the truth in how you feel about me." She put a hand on her heart. "Because I feel it to. I'm falling in love with you, James." She told him. Elizabeth got up from the chair, trying vainly to straighten out her wet clothes. The expression on her face suddenly became miserable. "I've said too much. I shouldn't be thinking this."

James got to his feet, gently putting his hands on her arms and pushing her back down in her seat. He got to his knees in front of her. "Elizabeth, tell me what your thoughts are. I will listen." He said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Please, just tell me."

"It's only been a year since he died." She said after some reluctance. "I feel as if I should live without him for the rest of my life. I could live on my own, if I so choose to." She twisted the wet fabric of the skirt in her grasp. "And suddenly my feelings for you have grown and I feel as if I'm betraying him." Her voice shuddered. "I'll never feel the same way about another man that I did him, but I feel a different way about you and it's so strong. I want my daughter to grow up with a father who loves her and that she would love in returned. I've seen how you treat her, James. She loves you." She dropped the fabric in her hand and took one of his hands. "So do I, and I know that you would love me in return even if you never fully held my heart."

He took in what she was saying and put both of his hands around hers. Her hand felt cold from running around in the rain and he rubbed it slowly. "I would." He told her. "The downfall of a romantic." The smile he gave her was slight and sad, and it disappeared quickly.

"I want you to be with me, James, and I want to be with you. Not at this moment, however. Not until I've finished my mourning and found what peace I can." She slowly pulled her hand from his. "But I want to know if you'll have me when I'm ready."

He nodded, unable to find the right words at first. "I will take you, Elizabeth." He said finally. They both got to their feet and Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him tightly.

"Thank you." She whispered to him and then broke from his embrace. With one last look, she found her way to the door and left. James remained standing in the sitting room, staring at the fire crackling in the hearth with a look of deep thought on his face.

Three months later, Commodore James Norrington and Elizabeth Swann were married in a beautiful ceremony overlooking the ocean. She had made the decision to move on.

----------------------

On board the Pearl, there was no such thing as a perfect plan. A perfect plan demanded that everything went as decided and no one was injured or killed or captured in the process. Of course, even outside the Pearl, perfect plans were few and far between.

Will twisted his wrist in the manacle again and tried to tug his hand from it again. The only thing he had achieved so far was rubbing his wrist raw, accompanied by bruising. He cursed under his breath and gave up, shoulders slumping as he lay back against the cold stonewall behind him.

"I told you they're too strong." Marty said, busy idly scratching words into the wall with a sharp piece of bone. During his time on the Pearl, Will had come to realize that many of the men that Jack had kept as his crew were more than what met the eye. Kursar had an amazing singing voice and regaled the crew every night before bed with sea chanteys. Moises had a fondness for carving things out of wood. Marty had surprised him the most. Many of the men who took to piracy were uneducated, but Marty could read and write extremely well. Few had ever gotten to see his works and had claimed they were quite impressive. Will himself had only seen one, a poem called 'Dark Man's Heart', which he had a sneaking suspicion that he was the inspiration for.

Now he seemed to be scratching a story of some sort, maybe leaving something for the next men who were thrown in the cell. A little taste of the history of the men before them.

"It was worth a try." Will said, pulling the cuff up slightly so he could rub his wrist. The skin hadn't broken yet, but there were a few swollen places. "Besides, we're getting out of here one way or the other. I prefer it the way that doesn't involve my head in the noose again." Duncan grunted in agreement and rolled over, trying to sleep.

The plan had been to sneak on board a ship from the East Indies trading company instead of attacking it directly. Most of the men were off in port, drinking away wages and using what little was left to coax a wench into bed. Jack had led the first group of men onto the ship and they had managed to get a full load and headed back again. Will had seen him leaving and led the second group in. They'd left the little boat at the side of the ship and climbed up onto the deck. Everything had been quiet. Not a soul in sight except for the two men on guard.

Everything had been going well until the captain had stumbled back on board with a wench in his arms and had woken up the two sentries. Will, Duncan, and Marty had yet to get back to the boat and after a brief scuffle, were caught and taken into town. Of course, the captain was satisfied with just catching them and had demanded that they be branded as well, on the forehead as was tradition. All three of the pirates had made it as difficult as possible by fighting back, and ended up with their brands in places other than their foreheads. Will's had ended up on his upper wrist, Duncan's was on his rear end, and Marty's was on the side of his neck.

Will scratched idly at the mark as he glanced around the cell, thinking of ways out. Thankfully he had retained most of his blacksmith knowledge instead of forgetting it, as he had wanted to. Unfortunately, his thoughts were cut off as he heard footsteps on the stairs.

Marty glanced up, dropping the bone on the ground in resignation. "Here comes the end." He said, standing up and raising his chin high. For a brief moment, Will wondered how he had ever come to have the life of a pirate. It didn't seem to fit the little man at all. Duncan cursed and got to his feet, gaze fixed on the three soldiers who made their way down the stairs.

Will was the last on his feet, staring icily at the soldiers as they approached. He almost wanted this, knowing that this time things would be done right and he could finally find his peace. He may have refused to be branded, but he wouldn't fight them when they escorted the three pirates out to the gallows.

"Isn't this ironic? Last time it was you helping me out." Will blinked and then squinted at the first soldier, still standing in the shadows.

"Jack?" He asked incredulously as the soldier moved into the moonlight streaming in from one of the windows. There was a flash of gold and silver as the soldier smirked.

"Aye, it's me. I changed the pirates' code." He said, looking around for something to use as leverage.

"They're more like guidelines anyway." Anamaria said helpfully, looking less than thrilled at being dressed up like a British soldier. The third man was Cotton, minus the bird.

"Now, let's see if I remember how to do this." Jack said after he had found the bench. He slid one of the sets of legs beneath the horizontal bar and pushed upwards. The door came off its hinges and tumbled forward, but Ana and Cotton were there to catch it and keep it from clattering nosily on the floor.

Duncan was all too happy to leave and kept thanking Jack over and over again. Marty was a little more subdued, still thanking Jack but not planting multiple kisses on Jack as Duncan had done.

Jack eyed Will, still standing in the cell. "Coming or not?" He asked, crossing his arms. Will glanced up at him, still lost within his thoughts. If he stayed here, he could hang and his life would finally be over. No more suffering, no more hurting inside every time he thought of Elizabeth and Emma, no more living a life he never wanted. But for each of those thoughts, a small voice within him told him to have hope, that someday he would be able to see them again. And for being such a small voice, it won out easily over the others.

"I'm coming." He said, stepping out of the cell and allowing Jack to grab the manacles that bound his wrists like he was being escorted to the gallows. Instead the three captured pirates were led back to the ship, where Moises took to ridding them of the manacles.

The anchor was raised and the sails were unveiled. The crew scurried around the deck like ants as the Black Pearl glided silently out of the bay, blending in with the night. The caper had been more successful than a failure. They'd gotten away with enough of the cargo to have a good night in Tortuga and the crew had come back more or less intact.

For most of them, it was a good day.

For Will, it was a lost chance.


	9. Calling For Help

_One Year Later…_

When Jack was on the warpath, not a single man wanted to be in his way. Most of them knew the extent of the temper of the famous Captain Sparrow, and found it a lot easier and a lot less painful just to avoid it. But on that particular day, those who feared his temper were not the target. His target was a dark haired young man wiping the blade of his cutlass on his pant leg. The pirate captain's hand shot out and grasped him none too gently by the ear, and yanked him back towards the Pearl. The crew went about their scouring of the merchant ship for anything of value, pretending not to see the scene at hand. He pushed him against the wall of the cabin, coming face to face with him.  
  
"What part of 'on my command' didn't you understand?" He asked Will, an angry fire burning in his eyes. He missed those days when there would've been a slight hint of fear in his eyes, but he showed none now, and Jack almost felt as if he were being looked down upon himself. "Answer me."  
  
Will stared defiantly back at him, his eyes dark and cold. "A man went for his pistol." He said finally, shoving Jack back from him and beginning to walk away. Jack grabbed his arm, pushing him back against the wall and this time, holding him by the neck.  
  
"I am the bloody captain here, and if I say hold, you will hold." He said scathingly. "Any man who doesn't is punished for disobedience. Don't think I make exceptions for you." Jack's temper was exceptionally hot at the moment. What could have been a simple ship raid had turned into a bloodbath that had lost him several of his crew and left them with a ship of nearly dead merchantmen. All because one person had attacked early. He glanced back over his shoulder. "Gibbs! Ana!" He turned back to Will, who was staring at him angrily now. Hearing the thud of boots on the deck, he let go of Will's neck, stepping away. "Take him back to the Pearl while I finish up here. Don't let him out of your sight." He muttered, turning on his heel and walking away. Gibbs reached out to take Will's arm, and was slapped away.  
  
"I can walk on my own." He snapped bitterly, walking towards the rail. Gibbs looked over at Ana.  
  
"I seem to remember a dark haired lad that looked just like him, gentle soul, a little rash I'll admit, but smart. Did Jack happen to trade him for this one and a bottle of rum?" He asked. Ana was still watching Will walk away, a troubled expression on her face.  
  
"Things change when you've been what he's been through. Look at us." She pointed between them. "Do you think either one of us ever meant to end up here? You were a sailor under the employ of England, and I had a life before..." She trailed off. "We can only hope something changes and the William we all know comes back to us. Otherwise..." She looked at Gibbs. "We might see him dead far before his time and it might be Jack is the one to do it." With that said, she started walking back towards the Pearl as well.  
  
Gibbs mulled over what she had said a moment, before pulling out his flask and taking a deep drink of the liquor he'd come to find was a soothing friend for his damaged nerves. "God help us all then." He muttered, following after.  
  
A while later, the ship had been thoroughly scoured, and anything of value had been taken back to the Pearl. The ship was disconnected from the Pearl, and Jack ordered the sails raised. He left Cotton in charge of the wheel so he could deal with the unpleasant task at hand. The crew watched him carefully, feeling the tension on the air, and knowing what was about to happen.  
  
"William." Jack's voice lacked all emotion as he said the name, pulling his coat off and throwing it across a barrel. As the young man was brought forward, he began rolling up his sleeves. "I don't allow disobedience on my ship. I am more lenient than others, but when I give an order, it is followed, aye?" He said, picking up the cat-o'-nine-tails. Will's eyes went to the object of punishment, then back to Jack's. Still his cold gaze showed no fear. "Shirt off and hold onto the mast." He commanded. "Now." To his surprise, Will did just as he was told. Everyone's attention was on the two men now. Jack strode forwards, leaning over his shoulder. "I don't like doing this, William, but I refuse to treat you any different than the rest of my crew, because that's what you are now. You are not a naive blacksmith any longer. You are the first mate on one of the most feared pirate ships in the Caribbean." He said quietly, and then took a step back.  
  
The next thing Will felt was the horrible burning feeling as the nine tails lashed against his back. He flinched only slightly, but never once did he cry out, determined to remain deadpan. After five lashes, he felt like he was in hell and the devil was poking him over and over in a different place each time. He'd seen this same punishment done to other men, and knew that his back was now a mess of intercepting lines, red and bleeding. He stayed against the mast, weak at the knees, but not wanting to admit it. Not with everyone watching. He didn't want their hate, or their pity. He just wanted to be left alone. Finally finding some strength, he pushed back from the mast and turned to face Jack. Jack stared back at him, still no emotion on his face.  
  
"Gibbs, take him down to the crew's quarters. He's no good to the crew right now in this condition." Gibbs nodded and started towards Will, who again waved him away and slowly made his way towards the door. Will knew he should've been used to the pain by now, as it hadn't been the first time he was punished.

Will pushed open the door to the large room and carefully picked his way among the many makeshift beds of rags and blankets that littered the place. He came to his hammock and pulled the blankets from it. Wincing as he did so, he knelt and laid out the blanket, then placed the folded blanket at the head as a pillow. The hammock would cause even more discomfort to his back, and the floor was as good a place as any. He lay down on his stomach, feeling the burning pain on his back as he lay there, unmoving.  
  
A while later, Ana crept into the room, moving towards the younger pirate in silence. She sat down on the floor beside him and tapped his shoulder. His response was to jerk awake and then hiss in pain as he moved too quickly. She kept her hand on his shoulder. "Lay down." Her voice was firm as she said it, and he did so. "I'm sure you know how this works by now." She told him, taking the jar of salve from the bag and opening it.  
  
"Yes." He grunted in response, his head turned away from her. She shook her head, scooping up some of the salve with two fingers and started to gently apply it to the open marks on his back. His whole body stiffened under her touch and she knew she was causing him more pain, but it couldn't be helped.  
  
"If you had just listened, I wouldn't even need to do this." She muttered.  
  
"He was going to fire at us." Will's tone made it clear that he believed he had done what had needed to be done.  
  
"No, he wouldn't have." Ana told him. "His hands were shaking too badly for him to even get a grip on it. I've been at sea longer than you, William, and Jack longer than both of us. He knows what he's talking about, and I suggest the next time you listen." He didn't respond to her comment, and she got the feeling that she wasn't going to. "And another thing." She said as she finished smoothing on the salve. "Drop the attitude before you lose your friends. When you lose them, you truly have nothing left." She turned on her heel, marching back across the room. He wanted to respond to her comment, but there was nothing he could think of quickly enough to do so. He laid his head back down on the blankets, hoping this week went by quickly enough.

-----------------------  
  
Two weeks had passed since the incident, and Will was as dark as ever. The crew had become just as scared of him as they were Jack when he was in a foul mood, and those close to him found it less and less bearable to be around him. Jack even had to admit that he was sick of his attitude after two years of seeing it.  
  
Will was sleeping curled up in the hammock, the pain in his back lessened to a degree where he could sleep in that position without an ungodly amount of pain keeping him up. A hand covered his mouth and he jerked awake, grabbing for the dagger in between the blankets that served as a pillow.  
  
"I wouldn't do that." Jack told him quietly as not to wake the few crew members scattered at various places on the floor and on the few beds. Many of the others were out enjoying the pleasures that Tortuga offered those who came into its port. Will turned to look at him, a confused expression crossing with his usual dark one. He beckoned him with a finger. "Come on, we're going drinking." Will slid out of the hammock, grabbing his shirt and his boots and following Jack.  
  
A while later, Jack was leading him down the streets of Tortuga. "For a man who has no home to call his own, Tortuga is close enough." Jack said, throwing his arms open. Will only rolled his eyes. Jack finally found the tavern he was looking for and pushed open the door.  
  
It never really changed in the Faithful Bride Tavern. Drunken bar brawls, wenches on the brawl to make a little bit of change so that they could eat, and dirty deals going on in the dark corners of the room. Jack pointed to the empty table. "Go sit. I'm going to grab us drinks." He disappeared into the crowd before Will could respond, so he wandered over towards the table, sliding onto the bench and waiting for Jack to come back.

Jack wasn't the first one to arrive at the table. A fair haired wench slid onto the bench beside him, curling her arm around his. He guessed she was fairly new to the trade because she didn't look world weary like the others. He shook her arm loose, not even glancing at her, but she refused to give in. She scooted closer, her lips nearly brushing his ear. "Would you like to spend the night with me?" She whispered, her tone seductive, but he ignored her, looking the other way. Her hand slid across his stomach, unbuttoning the bottom buttons and sliding her hand down towards the waistband of his pants, a dirty smile on his face. That got a response out of him, to push her away.

"I don't want you." He snapped angrily. She stood up in a huff, crossing her arms.  
  
"Captain, you didn't say he would be this impossible." She said, glancing over at the person behind Will. He spun around to find Jack standing there, arms crossed and not a mug of ale in sight. He got to his feet.  
  
"So you're taking it upon yourself to hire me wenches now?" He said angrily, approaching the older pirate.  
  
"I thought maybe if we found you another woman, you'd break out of this dark mood you seem to be so fond of." His response was the crack of a fist across his mouth, hard enough to split his lip. He touched two fingers to his lip, looking at the blood and raising an eyebrow.  
  
"I don't want another woman, I want Elizabeth!" The whole tavern went quiet, staring at the two men. Jack looked up at Will.  
  
"Now we're getting somewhere." Jack said, wiping at his lip. Will froze.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Thank ye, Jezzab." He told the girl and she nodded. He turned back to Will. "That's not a wench, that's the tavern keeper's daughter. I asked her to play along." Will's eyes narrowed. "Had to get to the root of your problem somehow. I suspected it was Elizabeth, but I wanted to be sure." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "And I only have one thing to say to you, whelp." He noticed Will was practically seething at him now. "Get over it." Jack knocked aside another fist aimed for his jaw and swung one of his own, scoring a hit. Will fell back against the table, rubbing at his eye. "This attitude you've taken on is a little unbecoming of you, William. I know you've been through tough times, but brooding over the past isn't going to help you at all. You brood about the past, you stay in the past."  
  
Will stood up, glaring at Jack, although his left eye looked slightly swollen. "Maybe I like staying in the past."  
  
"If you stay in the past, you'll never get to see the future." Jack responded back quickly.  
  
"Is this why you brought me here Jack? To lecture me? I'm not listening if you are." He started to walk towards the tavern door when Jack put a hand on his chest and pushed him backwards into a chair.  
  
"Sit down and listen." Jack snapped. "You don't have that life anymore, savvy? It ended when you died on the noose back in Port Royal. You don't exist anymore. The life you wish for isn't yours; it belongs to the man who died within you. You..." He poked Will in the chest again. "...are Matthew Stryder now, hear me? You can't go back to what you were, so don't linger on it." He wondered if he was getting through to the boy at all. His answer came when Will lunged out of the chair and slammed into him, sending them both crashing to the floor. The rest of the tavern took it as a signal to resume normal activities and did just that. Soon the two pirates were lost among the fighting.  
  
Jack lost his grip and sight of Will among the bodies. He got to his feet, looking around. Finally he caught sight of him, marching towards Jack, angry as hell. Jack was growing frustrated. Maybe it would be better to shoot the boy and put him out of his misery. He caught the bar stool leg Will swung at him and kicked him in the stomach, forcing him to fall backwards. He grabbed the mug off the bar and took a deep drink, slamming it back down.  
  
"I've been in a lot more fights than you. You wouldn't believe how much pain I can take." Jack told him as Will struggled to his feet. He left the boy swing at him again, easily dodging it. "I've accepted what I am a long time ago." He knocked another stool leg away, and grabbed Will's wrist. Will kneed him in the stomach, and Jack stumbled backwards.  
  
"I don't want to accept who I am. I just want my old life back!" Will shouted at him, tears in his eyes. "I want to feel Elizabeth's embrace again, I want to sing my daughter to sleep! I just want to be happy!" Jack took advantage of his pain for the moment and grabbed him by the collar, dragging him outside into the cool night air. He pushed him backwards to sit down on a crate against the wall.  
  
"You can't have that! You're dead to them, William, and even if you did go back, do you think they'd welcome you with open arms again? No, you're a bloody scallywag, that's why! If not before, you are now." If tough love was what it was going to take to get Will back on track, then Jack was going to do it. He pointed towards a dirty cracked mirror lying in a pile of garbage. "If you don't believe me, go look at yourself." He said, his tone quieter. "Then ask yourself this: Is this the way William Turner would have acted? Personally, I think the answer would be no." Will got up, moving over to the mirror. With the sleeve of his shirt, he wiped away some of the grime, staring at his reflection. The man he never wanted to be stared back. His fingers trailed along the scar on his neck, under his chin and long the right side of his jaw. In that moment, all the emotion that he'd held bottled up since came out, and he fell forward from his crouch. His knees hit the dirt street and his elbows came to a rest on the street, his head buried in his arms.  
  
Jack stood nearby, not making a move to help him, but a sympathetic expression on his face. A small part of him rejoiced, knowing that Will wasn't completely dead inside. He walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, I'll buy you a drink." He said, shaking his shoulder. "It's time to start a new life, lad. You'll always love her, and most likely she'll always love you. Knowing Elizabeth, she'll move on, but you'll always hold her heart. The same for you. You can keep her in your heart always, but you have to move on. So why don't you start right now?" He held out his hand. Will took it, climbing to his feet. The two men started down the street quietly, heading back towards the Faithful Bride.  
  
"Jack?"  
  
"Aye?"  
  
"How do you know so much?" Jack had to grin at the innocence of the boy's question, something he had missed dearly.  
  
"Life. She's a hard teacher, but a good one."


	10. A Change in Attitude

_Present_

Elizabeth reached out and placed a soft hand against her lover's cheek, staring up into his dark eyes. It was said that the eyes were the windows to the soul and she knew that she had to agree with that. There was so much pain there, yet a spark of hope that had been nurtured for years and now was steadily rekindling itself. She wondered what Will saw in her eyes, what story she was telling him without saying a word.

"I have Jack to thank for so much." She said quietly and slid across the small love seat to lie in his arms. Shutting her eyes, she breathed in the deep scent of him. Just as she remembered except now she could smell the salt of the sea on him slightly.

"If it hadn't been for him, things would have gone very differently..." Will said quietly, staring at the fire in the hearth. He watched the flames jump and the shadows moving across the wall. He could feel Elizabeth lying against him, her hand rubbing his chest gently over his heart. "Perhaps I wouldn't even be here." The thought was a torturous one. It was a double edged blade. Jack wasn't here because he was. So did that mean if he hadn't been here, if he had died, that Jack would be? Feelings of guilt overwhelmed him as Elizabeth snuggled closer. He knew she was patiently waiting for him to continue. He would at least give her that.

_Four years earlier_

The past few years had not been easy ones. After his 'talk' with Jack, Will had begun taking steps towards turning his life around, or as much as a pirate could for that matter. At first he had considered scraping the idea altogether as he found that adjusting to the society into which he had been thrown was not as easy as it seemed. The pirates rarely took the lanky ex-blacksmith seriously now that the aura of anger that had seemed to surround him was fading. His one escape had been sleeping at night, but since he had allowed himself to indulge in emotions again, nightmares plagued him. Memories resurfaced to combine with his overactive imagination to form horrifying images. Night after night he had seen Elizabeth fall beneath a blade, only to see himself as the one standing over her, laughing. Every time he woke up in the crew quarters, he was sweaty and burning with a fever that wasn't caused by sickness, but his own fevered dreams.

There were some aspects of pirate life that he had adjusted to. The early call for the crew to come on deck and start the daily round of chores was no earlier than the time he had gotten up to open the smithy back on Port Royal. The chores were no more than maintenance work, scrubbing the decks and adjusting the lines. He'd cleaned the shop many times as a child while Brown would fumble around the shop drunkenly in an attempt to fill orders. However, the long trips with nothing to do were something he hadn't expected. He thought that the life of a pirate was always filled with danger and excitement. When he had said this to Jack, the pirate captain had merely laughed in amusement and proceeded to explain that the life of a pirate was greatly over exaggerated. Most of the time on the ship was spent doing what work needed to be done or playing cards. Attacking ships wasn't done as much as was thought.

Will had taken to practicing with his sword again. While the crew played cards or for the lucky few who were illiterate, read, he was up on deck, taking himself through the motions with cutlass in hand, enjoying the feel of the practice again. It had a calming effect to it, making him feel more at peace than he had in years. Of course, there were still ripples beneath the surface. Lying in the darkness as he waited for sleep, he thought about Elizabeth and Emma. What would they think of the man he had become?

Jack twisted in his seat to see around the rather large man who had sat himself in Jack's view of the bar. Just as he'd managed to lean forward enough to see around him, the man leaned farther back in his chair. At that point, Jack almost had his ear to the ground because he was leaning so far forward. With a frustrated growl, he stood up and looked over the many heads of the crowd, looking for one in particular.

"William!" He bellowed above the ruckus, catching the attention of the younger pirate. Will turned to look in the direction of the voice and Jack managed to get the point across that he and the others at the table wanted their ale and rum and they wanted them now. That done, he sat down at the table. Gibbs was tapping his fingers on the desk in a fashion that was quite irritating to Jack. If Will didn't return with the drinks soon, he was going to make Gibbs eat each and everyone of those drumming fingers. He shot the quartermaster a dark glare and then glanced to Anamaria. She was glancing around the bar, trying to feign boredom.

Four mugs clattered down on the table, sloshing a little rum and ale here and there on the surface. Will slid the mugs to their respective owner and sat down in his chair across from Jack. For a while there was only silence at the table in the middle of the chaos that was the Tortugan bar as they all sipped at their drinks, having moments of quiet contemplation.

"You Jack Sparrow?" The nasally voice inquired. Jack turned nonchalantly in his seat to see the speaker of the voice. He nearly laughed out loud at the gangly lad staring at him, cutlass drawn and stance aggressive. He wondered when the last time the boy had seen a decent meal. Raising an eyebrow, he shifted so he was leaning back against the edge of the table, a smirk on his face.

"Aye. What of it?" He responded.

"I, Joseph Henry, have come to kill you and take over your ship!" The boy said, chest swelling in pride. "In fact, I have my own crew all ready to take over when I'm standing over your freshly dead body." He pointed the cutlass at Jack, who was quiet for a moment before bursting out into laughter. "You don't believe me, do you? Come on out boys!"

Around the four pirates, chairs scraped away from tables and six boys got up to join Joseph, who looked immensely proud of himself. "Now what say you, Captain Sparrow?" By that point, Jack had managed to quit laughing and began rubbing his chin thoughtfully. It wasn't the first time he'd been challenged for his ship, nor would it be the last. Being a legend in the Caribbean meant that everyone wanted to have your head and Jack took that in stride. In fact, he thrived on the challenge of finding new ways to disperse the type.

"I don't know." He said finally. "Mighty fine crew you've got yourself, lad. But..." He stood up, placing a palm on his cutlass. "My crew is better." As soon as the word had left his lips, Gibbs, Ana, and Will were all on their feet behind him. The three people behind him were the only ones he would ever trust with his life, despite the fact that building friendships were considered to be a downfall. Pirates needed to watch their own backs as supposed friends could cut them down in a second. But these people he trusted and they never disappointed him, time and time again.

He noted that the 'crew' standing behind Joseph looked slightly nervous now. The boy himself had looked like he was about to run for it, but quickly regained his composure. "My crew could hang yours in a moment. I've got some of the finest sword fighters in Tortuga on me side." He bragged. Jack glanced around at their faces and then down to the weapons. Most of them were second hand, scratched up and they gave the impression that they would break trying to knock away a blow.

"I've got a few of the fiercest and talented sword fighters in the Caribbean." Jack said easily, both hands still lying loosely on the hilt of his cutlass. He raised an eyebrow. "Which you'll soon find out if you keep up this nonsense."

Around them the bar had gone almost silent; men and women watching to see what would take place. There was no doubt that Jack Sparrow would win this competition, but that wasn't why they were watching. It was how Jack would fend off the boys that would be interesting.

Joseph had apparently had enough of being mocked by the man he had dreamed of killing. He pointed his cutlass at Jack. "Get them!" He commanded. The young group of wannabe pirates leapt forward, leaving Jack to Joseph. Ana met the first boy head on, knocking away his blade and giving him a good whack upside the head with the flat of her blade. He fell to his knees, holding the side of his head as he whimpered and crawled away.

"Can't even have a peaceful drink anymore." Gibbs muttered as he grabbed one young boy by the scruff of the neck and tossed his aside. "Someone always has to start something." Having taken care of his share of the problem, he sat back down in his chair and picked up the tankard. Will disarmed one of the boys and gave him a good poke with his own sword.

"You need a new blade." He told the kid, tossing him back his blade. The boy let it clatter to the ground, taking off through the tavern crowd instead.

Jack still had his sword sheathed, staring at Joseph. "Going to make a move or not?" He asked, opening his arms wide. Joseph stared at him a moment before letting out a squeaky battle cry and lunging for Jack, the point of his cutlass aimed right for the pirate's stomach. Jack turned swiftly to the side, letting the blade pass and grabbing the boy's wrist. In one quick movement he plucked the blade away and held it to Joseph's neck, smiling.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you it wasn't a good idea to play with pirates?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Joseph squeezed his eyes shut as the blade hovered closer to his neck. "I'm not going to kill you. I will do so, however, the next time I see you. Then it will be your own fault because you were too stupid to know what a warning was." He tossed the blade back to the boy and turned his back. Joseph grabbed the blade, for a moment fighting temptation to attack Jack again. Intelligence won over stupidity, and he took off for the doorway.

Jack slid back in his seat, picking up his tankard again and shaking his head. "Bloody children." He muttered. Ana made a sound of agreement beside him, taking to her own tankard.

Will stared at the boy's retreating back, thoughts whirling in his mind. That could've easily been him if it hadn't been the Navy ship that had picked him up. He would've been dead long ago, never would've met Elizabeth, and never would've had Emma. For a moment he wondered if that would've been better.

No. No it wouldn't have. The moments he'd had as father and husband had been fleeting, but they were happy memories he still could think back to. Maybe he could no longer go back to that life, but he still had pictures to keep him going.

As long as he kept going, there was always a chance he could go back to her.


	11. The Storm

Storm clouds were rolling on the horizon, reaching out towards the small port city. Elizabeth stood on the edge of the overlook, arms crossed over her stomach as she watched. The expression on her face was unreadable, but her mind was a whirl with thoughts. They had been bothering her since two days ago, that something wasn't right or that something was about to happen. Maybe it was a little of both. But exactly what was going to go wrong she didn't know. All she had was a feeling in the pit of her stomach, her intuition. James had told her that maybe she was worried about something, not accepting her word that she knew something was about to happen on feeling.

Closing her eyes, she let the calm wind blow past her. The familiar tang of the sea made her relax slightly. She let it caress over the skin of her face like a gentle lover, letting its calming fingers do its magic on her. Slowly the unease began to leave her body and she found herself falling deeper into a meditative state, listening to the waves against the rocks below, breathing in the smell of ocean salt, feeling the wind against her. Then there was another scent wafting beneath her nose. One so powerfully familiar that she reached out her hand to touch it.

It was Will's scent. She lovingly remembered that scent, so many nights spent curled up in his arms at night. Her fingers stretched out, almost pleading silently for her to touch him, hoping that he was right there. But her fingers only brushed against empty air and the scent disappeared again. In defeat, she sunk to the ground, her skirts spreading out around her. She opened her eyes, gazing out at the open sea again and this time her expression was that of sorrow. The feelings of unease had returned to her, twisting her stomach in knots again.

"Mother!" She heard the little voice call out to her and glanced over her shoulder to see seven-year old Emma running towards her, book clutched tightly in her hands. James followed behind her at an easy pace, arms clasped behind his back. Elizabeth held out her arms as Emma dove into her lap, collecting the little girl. She offered James a gentle smile, which he returned immediately. He came over to stand by her side, looking out to the sea and the storm clouds as well. Her hand reached up, slipping into his.

"I think you best head home soon." James glanced down at Elizabeth. "We are going to be having some foul weather soon." Elizabeth shifted Emma off her lap for a moment and climbed to her feet with James' assistance. She wouldn't tell him about what she had just experienced. It was hard enough for him to wake up to her crying quietly in her sleep at night. He even held her until the sobs had stopped, letting her cry without comment or rebuke

"I will." She told him. "I just came out here to look at the scenery." She gave his hand another squeeze and then let go. "How have things been for you today?"

"Quite boring, I should say." He responded. "I might be home earlier than usual tonight." Elizabeth smiled.

"Then I shall have Estrella set a plate for you." She told him and turned towards Emma. "Come now. Let's get home before it starts to rain." She watched as Emma climbed to her feet, closing the book she had held so gently in her hands. The little girl made her way over to her mother, holding up the book.

"Mum, can you read this one to me before bed?" She asked. Elizabeth took the well worn book from Emma's hands, running a finger over the lettering on the cover. She didn't even need to open it anymore to know the story that lay inside. When she had been pregnant with Emma, Will had spent many a night carefully writing the story inside of the old journal he had bought. The story of them, Will and Elizabeth. From the chance meeting and rescue on the seas to his race to save her life, and of course where would the story be without Captain Jack Sparrow? The names had been changed to make it seem as if it were a fictional story of course. Emma always begged her mother to hear the story of the two handsome pirates who raced to the rescue of the young lady who had been squandered away by unscrupulous foes. It was her favorite.

"We'll see." She said, handing it back to her daughter and fixed a loose sable curl back into the bun. "If you eat up all your supper and do your writing exercises before bed, then I will read you the story." Her heart warmed as Emma's smile grew, lighting up the little girl's face. Suddenly she seemed quite eager to get home so she could do her writing and eat her supper. She tugged on Elizabeth's hand impatiently, starting down the stairs. Elizabeth turned to face James, noticing him watching the two with a content smile on his face.

"Be careful on your way home." She told him quietly, reaching out and brushing her fingers against his. He leaned forward, lips meeting hers for a brief moment. She closed her eyes, sinking into his kiss for a moment before feeling another tug on her arm. She broke away from him, an apologetic smile on her face. "I will see you at home." She told him and headed down the stairs with Emma, the little girl happily chattering the whole way home.

--------

Anamaria laid her hand against Will's forehead and raised an eyebrow. "I think I'll agree with Jack, William. We're at port now and I think the night watch can do with one last man for tonight. You're running a fever." She pulled her hand away and placed her hands on his shoulders, pushing him back down into the hammock.

"I'm fine." Will protested groggily. His face was flushed red from the fever, but Jack doubted it was anything serious anyway. "I can do my watch." He insisted, but didn't resist against Anamaria. In fact, he looked as if he was comfortable. "Just give me a minute..." He raised a hand to stifle a yawn, eyelids drooping heavily. Eyes closing, his head tilted to the side. "Then I'll get up." A moment later he was sleeping softly.

Jack shook his head as they headed out the door and back up to the deck. "Just as stubborn as his father." He muttered, beads jangling around his face. Ana reached out and tugged on one of the dreads, a small smile on her face.

"So where are we off to tonight, Jack Sparrow? The Faithful Bride? The Boar's Head?" She pressed her body against his, pressing her lips softly on his. He took the bait, running his fingers through her hair as they spent the moment in their own little world. Finally she broke the kiss, laying her head against his chest. He put an arm around her shoulders, resting his chin on the top of her head, eyes closed. She smiled slightly.

"The side of Jack Sparrow that most don't see." She said quietly, fingers trailing through his dark hair. "Of course, I'd rather keep it that way."

"And if you tell anyone, I'm afraid I'll have to leave you on an island with only one shot." Jack replied casually. She swatted him, pulling away and heading for the rail of the Pearl.

"Catch me if you can, Jack Sparrow."

-------

Hearing the silence on deck, Will slowly opened his eyes and glanced around. The cabin was empty, most of the men out on the town in Tortuga, spending their share of the loot collected over the past few months. Swinging his legs over the side of the hammock, he slid down to his feet and picked up his shirt and boots. He crept up to the deck and peered out, looking for any sign of Jack or Anamaria. Seeing neither, he pulled on his shirt and boots and headed for the side of the ship, hoping there was at least one more boat back to shore.

Rowing to shore ended up being more of a difficult job than he suspected. It was enough of a battle for one man who was healthy, but being sick presented its own problems. More than a few times he would have to stop and let the dizziness pass over him before picking up the oars and rowing again. It took twice the normal time to get to shore, but he took pride in knowing that he got there without passing out. A leave on land was very rare and he would be damned if he was going to miss it.

Will scrambled out of the boat and pulled it up onto shore, far enough that it was out of reach of the tide dragging it back in and leaving him stranded. Brushing off his hands, he headed up the shore towards the city. He knew the few taverns that the Pearl's crew liked to frequent and decided to take the time to search for them.

A flash of red caught his attention and he glanced around. A frown appeared on his face as he saw the uniformed British Navy soldier speaking to a man off to the side. Most of the denizens wandering the street were already drunk enough that they barely took notice of the oddity; either that or they found no reason to fear the man. Will, however, found this appearance of the law in a town known for being a haven for pirates very strange. The Navy never came into Tortuga, making the island an unofficial sanctuary. Even if they were to come, it would be with a full force.

_Wait, what man would be stupid enough to venture here alone? Not many and I'm sure that a soldier of the Navy would be less inclined, which can only mean one thing. Something is about to happen here._

Suddenly he forgot that he was sick and turned back to the town, all thoughts of finding a tavern to buy himself a drink suddenly disappeared from his thoughts and finding Jack became urgent. He pushed his way through the crowd, earning a few curses from the citizens and sailors that were cognizant enough for the moment. A few wenches called out offers to him and he ignored them, looking for the familiar hat and red bandana.

"Jack? Jack!" He called out over the crowd. It was hard to hear if he had gotten a response over the roar of the crowd, pistol shots, and general brawling. He was getting more paranoid now. Something about the situation seemed so wrong. One soldier in a pirate sanctuary at the same time as one of the most famous pirates in the Caribbean.

"Jack!" He called again, frustration in his voice. He listened a moment for a response and then opened his mouth to shout again. A hand reached out, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him aside. His first instinct was to fight back, but he relaxed when he found that the man who had grabbed him was the one he'd been looking for. "Jack, we have to get out of here now." He said breathlessly.

"They can't do anythin' to me here, mate. Besides, I get captured, I escape again, savvy?" Jack smirked at him and nodded to the tavern a few doorways down. "The whole crew is in there drinkin'. Come on." Will shook his head and followed at Jack's side. "Besides, how are they goin' to find one pirate amon..."

The pistol shot was lost among all the others, but the sudden end to the pirate captain's words made Will pause and turn around.

"Jack, what's wrong?" He stopped dead, eyes going wide.

"Jack!"


	12. Returning Home

Despite his best efforts, the crimson blood was everywhere. Will's hand was pressed firmly against the wound on Jack's back. Blood seeped profusely between his fingers, soaking into the pirate's shirt and the makeshift bandages. He was terrified at how pale Jack's face was and how still the pirate had become. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. He was the famous Captain Jack Sparrow. If he was going to go out, it was supposed to be in a blaze of glory, not laying on a Tortuga street bleeding to death from being shot in the back. More to the point, Jack couldn't die now. He was the one person who had reached him when it seemed near impossible and had brought him back from the edge.

"Cold." Will started as he heard Jack speak. Releasing the bloody rags, he quickly pulled off his coat and draped it over Jack's body. A small group had begun to gather around them, the sounds of celebrating seeming so far away now. A murmur rushed through the crowds, and Will could hear Jack's name and angry tones as they relayed to others what had happened. Pirates were an unscrupulous lot, but to most shooting another man in the back, a man such as Jack, was unheard of. Jack was well known. If someone had wanted him dead, they should've met him face to face. This shouldn't have happened.

He pressed down on the bloody rags again, feeling the warm blood against his skin. He closed his eyes for a moment, drawing in a shuddering breath. Where were Anamaria and Gibbs? He'd sent a street urchin to tell them to come and bring Gibbs and Ana and to tell them to bring Cotton as well. The old pirate was as good a doctor as any.

"Stay with me Jack. You've had worse than this." Will said quietly, resting his free hand on Jack's shoulder. There was a soft chuckle from the pirate which descended into racking coughs. After it had passed, he grinned weakly. Will tossed aside the bloody rags and ripped off one of his own sleeves, pressing it against the wound again. With his other hand he kept Jack laying on his side.

"The Grim Reaper has always been the one I couldn't escape, Will." Jack said. His voice was so weak that Will had to lean forward to hear him. Jack's eyes were beginning to droop heavily in exhaustion and his breathing harsher. The life was leaving him quickly. Will couldn't help but notice the calm look in Jack's eyes. Never once had he seen him frightened, not even now when he was facing death. Will, on the other hand, was terrified that he was going to lose his best friend.

"The Pearl is yours. Take good care of her for me." The words sent shivers down his spine. The ship that Jack loved so much, that he would give his life for, was being put in his care. "You know what you have to do."

"You can take care of her Jack, not me. I'm not a captain." Will said quickly, tears welling up in his eyes. He could never be a pirate captain, not one of Jack's caliber. He had been raised as a civilian. The blood flowing from the wound had slowed.

"Consider this learning quickly." He said, attempting a laugh again but it only made him shiver in pain. He could hear Gibbs' voice telling people to move in the crowd behind him. He breathed a sigh of relief. Help was coming for Jack. Cotton would bind the wound and Jack would be fine. He had to be fine.

"This is ridiculous. Everything's going to be..." Suddenly he felt Jack's body go limp. His chest didn't rise again, there was no intake of breath, and his eyes had shut. "Jack?" Will shook his shoulder, trying to be careful so that he didn't cause him pain. "Jack?" His voice broke and he shook his shoulder harder. "Jack! Don't do this!"

Two hands rested on his shoulders and he fell back into Anamaria's arms as she knelt down beside him. The tears spilled down his face and sobs wracked his body, one hand still resting on Jack's shoulder. Ana held him, her eyes shut tightly and tears pouring down her face. Gibbs fell to his knees beside Jack's body, a look of shock on his face. The crowd around them had gone silent. There were so many thought to be scum that had invaded the town of Tortuga, yet when Jack Sparrow had fallen, they showed different faces. Suddenly they were human again, joined in grief over one man who had affected more people than he'd ever known.

---------

"Rest in peace." The words slipped quietly from Will's lips as he stood on the deck of the Pearl, staring out at the horizon. The sun was setting, red rays reflecting on the calm ocean. Only an hour earlier they had sent Jack to his final resting place in the ocean. No one could think of a better place than that upon which he had spent most of his life. The men were all in different emotional states. When the body had been brought back, the men showed just how much they had respected their captain. Heads bowed, hats pulled off in respect. Tears made paths on dirty cheeks as proper respect had been paid.

His fist slammed down on the rail and he leaned forward, squeezing his eyes shut. Everything had happened so fast. That soldier who had been prowling around Tortuga untouched flashed in his mind. When he had turned to face Jack, the pirate had fallen into his arms and they had both collapsed on the ground. In a moment of shock, he remembered the flash of red. The red uniform of the man who had shot Jack Sparrow in the back. He had seen the arrogant smirk as the man had lowered the pistol and disappeared into the crowd again. But Will couldn't go after him. He couldn't have left Jack behind.

Slowly he opened his hand, watching the blood flow from his knuckles. It was odd. He didn't even feel the pain, but then again it probably wouldn't have compared to what he was feeling inside. Jack had been more than just a friend to him. Over the past few years, Will had come to look at him almost as a father. Jack had pulled him back from the brink of an existence that might very well have killed him or at the least have made him a very lonely person. He had put in the time he hadn't been obligate to just to return Will to his old self after a tragedy had changed him for the worst. He owed Jack so much.

The sound of boots on the deck alerted him to another person on the deck. Most of the men were down below, quietly drowning their sorrows in the rum storage, leaving only a few select men on watch. It had seemed like the right thing to do, giving them the night off.

The newcomer was Anamaria. She gave him a half hearted smile as he nodded to her and walked over to join him at the rail. For a moment the two pirates sat in silence, looking out to the sun half hidden behind the horizon.

"It's beautiful." She said finally, her voice thick as she tried not to let the tears break free again. "Fitting for his final good-bye."

"It shouldn't have been." Will said, looking down at his bloody knuckles again. "He should be here." He turned to look at Ana. "That night in Tortuga, I saw a British Naval soldier down in the main part of town. He was talking to another man and no one was bothering them."

Ana looked shocked. "But the Navy never comes to Tortuga." She said. "And just one man going in there alone is like throwing away a life." She said, her eyes narrowing. "Wait. Are you saying that he was involved in this?"

"He was the one who was responsible for shooting Jack in the back." He responded angrily, the need to hit something welling up within him again. "He actually smirked at me before he disappeared into the crowds and..."

"What kind of a man shoots another in the back? That's the way of the coward." Ana said, raising her chin. "And an insult to the legend of Jack Sparrow. An insult that needs to be rectified." Her voice became steadier, a fire rekindling in her eyes. The same look was mirrored in Will's.

"That means where we need to be heading is a place that has the manpower to do such a task."

"Port Royal." Ana said, then her eyes softened. "That means you would have to go home, Will. Are you ready for that?" She asked.

Will glanced back out to the sea, his gaze becoming distant. _You know what you have to do._ Jack's words echoed in his brain. He'd known all along what Will would do should anything happen to him. He would go back to Port Royal and try to reclaim his life.

"For Jack." He said finally, glancing over at Anamaria. She nodded.

"For Jack." She echoed and turned on her heel and walking away, most likely to call the crew together and explain the situation.

Will turned back to face the horizon.

"Thank you Jack."

------------------

"The rest of the story you know." Will said quietly. Elizabeth gazed at him, her mouth slightly open as if to speak. She couldn't find any words to say to him. Instead she lay up against him, resting her head against his chest and closing her eyes. She could hear his heartbeat in his chest beneath the rough fabric of his shirt. It reminded her of a long time ago when they would lie in bed after making love and she would listen while he slept. Then fate had torn them apart and she had dearly missed that sound.

"You came back to me." She said finally after the long silence. "All those years I never let go of you, thinking that you had died. The day Michael brought you to the house and you were alive I couldn't believe it. For some reason I have yet to comprehend, I don't think I gave up on the hope that you were alive even when all the odds were against it." His arm rested across her shoulder, the other slipping around her waist. Such warmth and love in his grip.

Will rested his chin on top of her head, still lost in his own thoughts. So many lives had been lost just so he could be here now, holding Elizabeth in his arms. Jack had brought Will back from a fate worse than death and taught him well. James had taken good care of Elizabeth and Emma, making sure they were safe and taken care of, loving Elizabeth dearly when he knew she couldn't fully love him in return. Dear friends all of them.

He finally moved and looked down at Elizabeth. "I had to come back to you." He said quietly. "I couldn't leave so many lives in danger." Elizabeth looked up at him and he saw the love there. He had kept his love for her close to him all these years, holding onto the hope that he would be with her again. Now here he was. "And I loved you."

"I love you too." She closed her eyes and resettled her head against his chest. "Please don't leave me again." She whispered. He stroked her soft hair, closing his eyes. "Promise me."

For a moment the only sounds in the room were that of the fire burning in the hearth and the tick tock of the clock in the corner. It truly felt as if he were home again.

"I promise."


End file.
